Loudon Wainwright III comes to town Feb. 18 in support of his new album Recovery. We caught up with the musical patriarch to talk age, Updike and family ties…
Recovery is all about reinventing your old songs. What was that process like?
Some of these songs have been in the repertoire over the years, three or four of them, but all the others I had to relearn and listen to again. With the exception of two of them, they were originally recorded with a voice and guitar almost 40 years ago, but I’m a different singer. So right away, the challenge of trying to top the original produced versions was removed because they’re just completely different from the format with the full band, which is what we did on Recovery.
What was your favorite song to re-record?
The songs are like my children—I love them all! We recorded ‘Man Who Couldn’t Cry’ live with a string quartet. That was exciting… hopefully a little like Frank Sinatra there. Playing live with strings, I don’t think I’ve ever done that.
Do you think musicians tend to produce their best work before they’re 30?
I think it’s true in some cases but I don’t think it’s a hard and fast rule. It doesn’t have to be that way. Here’s what John Updike said about that: “At the point where you get your writerly vocation, you diminish your receptivity to experience.” I thought that was great.
In a sense, everybody’s first record is the truest one because they’re writing in this vacuum of ‘them’ and…‘it’. There’s no music business, there’s no record company, there’s no reviewers, there’s no tag [like] it’s ‘the new Bob Dylan’ or ‘the Old Jimi Hendrix’. Once all those pressures kick in, plus all the temptations of drugs, alcohol and waitresses, you can certainly burn out by the time you’re 30…
Do you find songwriting to be particularly cathartic?
I’m a songwriter and it’s a magical, mysterious thing when it happens. But in terms of being cathartic in that Greek, cleansing way, I don’t know how cathartic it is. It could be argued that dwelling on some of the stuff is not cathartic at all. It can be enjoyable when a song is coming to you; it’s powerful and I love it when it happens actually.
You’re part of one of the more famous musical families. How much do you guys bicker about the songs that get written?
There’s bickering in every family. In our family there’s some songwriters and we have a tendency to write about our lives and the people in our lives. And at the end of the day it’s not so much about what you’re writing about, it’s how well you write about it. That’s what’s important and that’s what I’m focusing on. I’m still writing about my family—I have new songs about my family. And my job is not to come up with more family songs but to come up with more good songs.
Does songwriting get easier with age?
Nothing gets easier, that’s the way I was feeling today. But again, once it’s rolling, there’s not a lot of effort involved. I’ve often [used] the analogy that it’s like fishing: you’re waiting a long time but when there’s a bite, there’s a skill and craft involved with getting it into the boat.
>Loudon Wainwright
Feb. 28, Blender Theater, 127 E. 23rd St. (betw. Park & Lexington Aves.), 212-614-6847; 8, $60
Recovery is all about reinventing your old songs. What was that process like?
Some of these songs have been in the repertoire over the years, three or four of them, but all the others I had to relearn and listen to again. With the exception of two of them, they were originally recorded with a voice and guitar almost 40 years ago, but I’m a different singer. So right away, the challenge of trying to top the original produced versions was removed because they’re just completely different from the format with the full band, which is what we did on Recovery.
What was your favorite song to re-record?
The songs are like my children—I love them all! We recorded ‘Man Who Couldn’t Cry’ live with a string quartet. That was exciting… hopefully a little like Frank Sinatra there. Playing live with strings, I don’t think I’ve ever done that.
Do you think musicians tend to produce their best work before they’re 30?
I think it’s true in some cases but I don’t think it’s a hard and fast rule. It doesn’t have to be that way. Here’s what John Updike said about that: “At the point where you get your writerly vocation, you diminish your receptivity to experience.” I thought that was great.
In a sense, everybody’s first record is the truest one because they’re writing in this vacuum of ‘them’ and…‘it’. There’s no music business, there’s no record company, there’s no reviewers, there’s no tag [like] it’s ‘the new Bob Dylan’ or ‘the Old Jimi Hendrix’. Once all those pressures kick in, plus all the temptations of drugs, alcohol and waitresses, you can certainly burn out by the time you’re 30…
Do you find songwriting to be particularly cathartic?
I’m a songwriter and it’s a magical, mysterious thing when it happens. But in terms of being cathartic in that Greek, cleansing way, I don’t know how cathartic it is. It could be argued that dwelling on some of the stuff is not cathartic at all. It can be enjoyable when a song is coming to you; it’s powerful and I love it when it happens actually.
You’re part of one of the more famous musical families. How much do you guys bicker about the songs that get written?
There’s bickering in every family. In our family there’s some songwriters and we have a tendency to write about our lives and the people in our lives. And at the end of the day it’s not so much about what you’re writing about, it’s how well you write about it. That’s what’s important and that’s what I’m focusing on. I’m still writing about my family—I have new songs about my family. And my job is not to come up with more family songs but to come up with more good songs.
Does songwriting get easier with age?
Nothing gets easier, that’s the way I was feeling today. But again, once it’s rolling, there’s not a lot of effort involved. I’ve often [used] the analogy that it’s like fishing: you’re waiting a long time but when there’s a bite, there’s a skill and craft involved with getting it into the boat.
>Loudon Wainwright
Feb. 28, Blender Theater, 127 E. 23rd St. (betw. Park & Lexington Aves.), 212-614-6847; 8, $60
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