illustration: CHRISTOPHER DAVISON

Music > Interviews >

band interview

Chrisopher Blue

Interview by Vivian Hua
Tagged
2007 blues rock chrisopher blue indie rock rock sarathan records seattle bands

Swinging To The Blues



Often, it is during a person's most tortured moments in life where he or she really finds a reason to shine. Sometimes, out of desperation and adversity, great things are created. This was the truth behind the birth of the blues, and now, Chrisopher Blue's newest blues and jazz influenced album, Room Tones, is ready to hit the public as one of Blue's most accomplished works to date.

Written during an extremely rough period for Blue, the album shows his triumph over significant difficulties – including homelessness, jail time, and drug addiction. But thanks to helping hands from those who loved him and even from complete strangers, Chrisopher finally got himself back on the right track and is now touring in support of his album. Room Tones is a testament to the experience of Blue's life, and the music is almost as varied as his life has been.


Seems like you've been getting a lot of good feedback in Seattle.
Yeah, seems like it. It's rare. I'd played here a long time in an entirely different capacity. This record came out and I called it the quiet record, because it's mellow. I've been finding that this is where I'm coming from these days. I don't feel like living as extreme as I have in the past. With this record I just wanna kind of chill and hang out.

Like what people normally do as they get older?
I think so. I really do. I feel kind of in my heart – I don't really feel like I'm older, but I'm not as adrenalized as I once was, and full of so much rage. It's more like, I'm just gracious. I'm grateful to be here doing what I like to do.

It seems like you went through a lot of personal issues while you were writing your last record. Can you talk about those?
Yeah, you know, that'd be fine. Anything in particular you were thinking?

The homelessness aspect?
That's been an on again off again aspect in my life.

Today?
No, not today, not now. And not for the last year. And it really – right now, I'm doing really good – mentally, physically, spiritually, and musically. It's digging my way out of a hole, right? But for a long time, on again, off again, from 1991, I've had these six to nine month stints of utter homelessness. Either couchsurfing or sleeping in some warehouse, traveling, and living in a car, and just fucked up, mentally. There is always a time in my life where I was seeking breakthrough or I was in extreme places, or I was bottoming out, using way too many drugs, losing myself. I'm not on a sobriety kick today – it's not about that. It's about just living in happiness right now and trying to maintain a balance, you know, cause I fear that as time keeps going that you never see that shit coming and I'm so afraid of ending up in front of some place, with a Frisbee, talking to people who pay attention. And that's so close to any mind or anybody for a variety of reasons. But for me, it's my own doing. If I don't take myself seriously, and my life seriously, I can just tend to destroy it. my homeless times have been in Fresno, CA, Seattle, WA, and this last one was really about going on a road in support of a record I did, and having to give up my home to be able to commit with that. So I ended up doing most of it solo, instead of with a band, which was pretty funny. It was kind of silly, actually. But whatever. When everything was finished by that time, I was fucked up on coke and Aderall – anything up. Any I had no place to land, and then I got in trouble in Kansas and got thrown in jail. All I was doing was trying to pursue a dream in a really bad way. I was selling pot while I was touring, out of the back of a van without anybody knowing. And I got in trouble for it.

Well, it's kind of creative.
I needed to pay the bills! Cause my dream was I wanted to come back to Seattle from a non-paying tour which was mostly about just getting out there. And the label was confused, to be straight up.

What label was that?
Sarathan! And they've really got their shit together now, which is why we mutually repaired our relationship. During this window of homelessness, and the whole decline of my mind, it cost them a lot of money, cause they would pay me to make the record, and I made a big trip into Austin and got a whole new band and wasted all their money, lost my shit, set my lyrics on fire, and drove to Colorado, left the band, with trailer and gear and merch and lived in this kind of natural, clothing-optional land trust and hot spring for like a month, and I just thawed out. So I went on this tour that I was already scheduled to do, and I got thrown in jail, and I just fucking hit it bottom. I got out of jail with no friends, no money, no place to go, but I had to go somewhere, so I went to Seattle on bail. I was able to post my own bail because of friends, through the great love and support of many people, and then it was no place to go. It just kept getting worse. I was still flying to Kansas to fight my case. I was dependent on a dear friend of mine, who I, quite frankly, took very big advantage of in terms of doing survival mode shit and not thinking about others. That ended up being a bridge burnt, and then I had nowhere. I had a car, and it barely worked, and I had three hundred dollars, and I drove myself and my dog down the highway and again, the transmission broke in Oregon, in Drain, Oregon.

Where was that?
It's a little off ramp with a gas station, a porn shop, and a café. And that's all it is. And it died right there. A mirror right there – bad food, bad ideas, and bad traveling. There's my life, you know? I went to the owner of the gas station and said, "My car died, I'm broke, and all my shit is in there, and I've got a dog, and I don't really know where I'm going." He said, "I'll give you a ride to wherever you need to go for the title to your car." We loaded up and he drove me 700 miles to Willitz, California, and it got worse. A friend of mine had a house I could live in, but it was uninhabitable and there were rats everywhere. It was way up in the mountains, so there was no electricity, no water. I had no vehicle and was depending on a guy I hadn't seen in a decade. The only person I could find was someone who hadn't seen me in a long time. And I was fucked man, and it just kept getting like that. So I bottomed out and reached out to a MySpace friend and said, "You don't know me, but you like my music, and you live in Mendocino, and how's it going. I'm in trouble and I need a hand." This woman and her mother are just really beautiful healing people, by chance. And the said, "You have skills in construction. You can live in this structure, this dome, and you can earn your keep on the land. But if there's any trouble, you're gone." [Getting in trouble] wasn't my intention – it was truly to wake up and get it together. They provided me with just the calm and the stability and the solitude, really, way up in the hills, to get it together while this record was culminating. I always had to have connection to the internet to talk. I could go on, man. It's been a ride. At this point, I'm just grateful for today. Today's a big day to me. This record wasn't going to come out. I wasn't going to live. It was ugly. Now, it's like, I'm playing with friends, and we're looking to tour, and things look good. I have a lot of hope. And it's not just me, me, me, me, me! I'm learning about life right now. I'm seeing a lot of the strengths and beauties in my friends... the brilliance of my friends, and the passion in their own lives. I'm opening up myself to maybe feel life a little bit deeper while I'm here.

I'm sure after being helped out by so many people you barely even know or haven't seen in forever, it's a lot easier to see the good in human beings?
Absolutely! I think the kindness that has been bestowed upon me in my times of trouble by people who just love me. The regret I have now is that I didn't recognize the love at the time. But it's brought me to this place. I once heard that the strongest of hearts is forged in a really, really hot fire. If that fire was made by my own doing, that strength is either going to be rigidity or it's going to be breakthrough and understanding what is important in life. I hope that it's not like, "Oh! Christopher!" I feel like maybe I can survive a little bit this time, and I haven't felt like that. I felt like a fucking wreck all the time, man.

All of the songs on the album all have common elements of jazz or blues yet are pretty different... is it a conscious choice or does it just happen, since a lot of bands make songs that are all the same because it works for them?
I think that given how I described my life to you, that the writing structure is similar to that. Each song on that record – the song "Scarecrow", the last song, I recorded on a little 4-track on the front yard of my house at 5 in the morning with crows yelling at me. Then, the first ten songs, we recorded here in Seattle at Jupiter Studios. "Disquietude" was a random session I did in Austin, and I just really liked that song and made sure it made the record. And the Genesis of the process of actually writing the songs and how the compositions were put together would be a lick I was hanging out with for a long time which I would show to DC Cooper, who's my bro and producer... wow, that all worked together syllabically... DC Cooper, my bro and my producer... and we would exchange with each other. Then it would be a matter of organizing. We'd be like, hey, we have a pile of songs. And then I went and lived in a Dodge Neon in the fucking beaches of Malibu on a tiny little budget. I wanted to live there a month, and the label was like, "Here's a dollar," so I'll live in this car so I can get to and from, and I just won't take up any space. I could have crashed at the pad, but they were intensive writing sessions. But with all that, with everything in the end product coming from different times and places, I think even though we recorded the bulk of it in one window for the record, it was written and demoed over the course of time in different capacities.

How long would you say?
DC said he started writing the songs three years ago, and I started writing about three years ago. It was really a culmination of many days intensively. I would go to his house from the beach, and I would use those surfer showers so I could put a bathing suit on and clean up. It was kind of like persecution, man. I was fucking homeless and broke, and I didn't want to impose on this guy where I'm in his face 12 hours, and now we're eating dinner together, and now we're going night night. I just wanted to give him his space and have my space too. That was the best I could do with what I had to work with. And being a nobody knows me artist, it's not luxury. They grudgingly support you a bit, and if you're willing to eat dirt a bit, there's more there than most artists. I'm trying to make sure that I'm very gracious. But it's silly sometimes. But the songs come together and they are what they are, and I think the continuity is the players that played on that record – we all kind of groove in a certain way together, and it contributes to the continuity and the vibe.

Is being a musician a full-time job for you?
No, I do a lot of things, some of which I can't talk about. They're positive things, but not necessarily legal. I also do construction. I do that more for anything, but I work for myself because I have my own business, so I set my own hours. I can't work very much because my schedule is rolling out of bed at 6 in the morning, but I'm doing e-mail exchanges regarding the campaign until noon. Then I get my tool belt on by 1, and work until 5. I need that flexibility. My clients are always really patient people too. I put it up there up front. "My life's crazy. It might take me three times longer than other people. Just wanted you to know." Some people won't take it. They want it done now. They don't want any of your personality. Just get the job done and go away. Others – a lot of artists and retired artists – are like, "I know what you're doing. Come in. You have a job." A lot of crazy, old artists in Mendocino. Lots of sculptors and a lot of innovative thinking there that was based in the 60s. They really want to exercise their ideas and now they're retirement age. My best friends are between 45 and 68, and are largely lesbian women. And mostly the only interaction I truly have in terms of sharing a salad and laughing or going for a walk are with those people because it's such an isolated place. I'm not going to stand on the corner looking for people my age. There are a lot of farms and lots of serious work, but it's super laid back. I love it, man.

I've been to Mendocino, but I never knew it was like that.
Did you go to the downtown part where the shops are?

Yeah.
There's many things that happen there – there's the touristy stuff. Then there's little nooks and crannies... like a co-op in a big red church. The people there are healers, and they don't just stand there and ring up your food. They're standing in little aisles with you and talking to you about politics, and their opinions are everywhere. I spend an hour and I just went in there for bread. It's beautiful. There's a lot of that. The post office is a place to chill. I get my mail and I see someone familiar in there so I walk with someone to get a coffee. It takes three hours to get my mail and come back.

And it's the best three hours of getting mail ever?
Yeah. And these aren't necessarily old friends. I'm just meeting everybody. There's lots of eye contact and lots of open minds. It's about 5,000 people the town, with surrounding cities for a hundred miles each with just a few hundred people. Why is the album called Room Tones?
Room Tones is a few things. In the movie industry, when they're checking the tones in the room... when there's silence, and there's the utterance of noise... Room Tones are the noises made at night between two people... Room Tones are the sound of this album recorded live. We sat in a big circle and recorded in a room – not every drummer behind a little booth. I worked behind glass because I couldn't get the intimacy. Initially the idea was to work in the room, but I couldn't separate it because there was a lot of bleed. Without me, they were able to turn the room so that all the mics kind of bled into each other, so when they mixed, there was no isolation where you just had guitar. You had to meld the whole room's sounds together. There were close mics and lots of room mics. It's pretty old school. They usually use one mic in the center of the room, and the piano player in the corner of room sounded far away because he was far from the mic. The singer would be singing up on the mic, and a bass player would be further away. I was in love with that whole thought. What a cool sonic field. How close are you to the one mic in the whole room? I wanted to do something close to that in theory, and that was as close as we could get without being ridiculous. I didn't want to compromise the quality of the record for an idea on micing style. But we did it in a big room, and that's basically my three definitions for Room Tones. And it was also the name of a trio I was in with the bass player and the drummer and myself playing guitar. And I loved that project, but don't think it'll ever make a record just yet. That was also part of it too. It's sort of a lot of things.

Since this album was focused on a downtrodden state, do you think future records... are you working on any songs now? Do they have a totally different kind of vibe?
They're very much in the scratch pad stage, but what I've been trying to do is expand my vocabulary. I've mastered the art of describing the state of my mind from a sad state and hating a lot of things I saw in the world, and that's cool, but I keep leaning towards a balance in my vocabulary and my poetic voice which isn't so one-sided. And there is something with that and instrumentation. And I'd like to remain organic... organic meaning, not that many effects... a real stand-up bass and drum kit, to really just keep it simple. I think that's probably going to be a genuine thing for the next record. I'm going to work with DC again because we both really liked this product. So there's going to be continuity in that, and there's going to be a lot of the same players. I don't know. I got a few songs already written. I wrote one of the happiest songs I ever wrote in the world the other day. I really didn't want to expect it and kind of thought about what was going on in the world and brought things down to earth for me... to where it's comfortable. I'm so blessed, and I'm really just making an effort to be happy. It's not one or the other. Still much respect for the darker places we go, because we go there. But great things can come from the depths that we sink to.

If you can learn from them...
Yep, that's the key.

what do you think?

Name:
URL:
Comment:

 
>>> LATEST FEATURES <<<
Holy Fuck
Menomena
Secret Cities
Zola Jesus

>>> ALBUM REVIEWS <<<
Geographer : Animal Shapes
Grass Widow : Past Time
Kyle Andrews : KANGAROO
Secret Colours : Self-Titled
the binary marketing show : clues from the past
The Budos Band : III
The Sword : Warp Riders
Wildbirds And Peacedrums : Rivers