EASE DOWN THE ROAD

If you were to compile a list of the best songwriters of the 1990s, a largely unknown artist named Bill Callahan would have to be not just included, but placed somewhere near the top. A list not conforming to this standard is about as worthwhile as those Pete Yorn records you (hopefully) traded in or trashed a of couple years ago. A Texas-based singer/songwriter, Callahan (most commonly known as the creative force behind Smog), lives a life of brawny subtleties. Songs like “I Was a Stranger,” “Dress Sexy At My Funeral,” “Ex-Con,” “Song,” “Short Drive,” “Teenage Spaceship,” “Hit the Ground Running” and countless others are every bit as good as anything Elliott Smith, Steve Earle, Jeff Tweedy, Will Oldham (or whoever you personally prefer) have written over the past decade; the difference is that they’ve never been flagged around. Look ‘em up. I dare ya. Listen to song called “White Ribbon” and, if you haven’t passed out, follow it up with a song called “Let Me See the Colts.” Or maybe “Our Anniversary.” Seriously. Do it.

But, like I said, Callahan is a subtle man. So subtle that he grants interviews to small city columnists/fanboys like myself, but we’ll get to that in a minute. Let it build. Let Ease’s signature hyperbole stir your comfort. We need to expound a bit on how the world would be a better place if people made out to “Our Anniversary” rather than the latest release from John Mayer or James Blunt or James Whoeveriscurrentlycutest.

Unlike the artists listed above, Callahan has never had his crack at a 15-minute crossover period. In fact, it’s probably safe to say that none of his albums have sold more than 30,000 copies, though I’m afraid to actually check. This is a sad and strange fact, considering Smog’s 1999 album, Knock Knock, is one of the best of the 90s. This is a sad and strange fact, considering Callahan just released the best written album so far of 2007, Woke on a Whaleheart. Sad. Sad for me, a music enthusiast who wants everyone I know to be aware of artists like Callahan; artists with real power and grace. That said, I’m pretty sure that Callahan is more than happy with his career, and why shouldn’t he be? He has his fans. He’s toured the world. Every truly hip music retail shop in the country keeps a huge stack of his albums on hand. Callahan is smart; he knows that his songs are out there and, unlike probably all of the artists listed above, he’s had a career on his own terms.

“I started out as small as possible by making cassettes” explained Callahan when asked about his beginnings. “It was just practice for what it would be like to put together an album with a cover and so forth. Then I put out a single and an LP on vinyl. I didn’t know what I was doing, so the boxes just sat in my house. Then Drag City Records wrote me, and it was a relief. I could let them worry about how to sell my records from then on.” Ease Down the Road – a column named after an album released by Drag City Records – loves Callahan’s label dearly. I told Callahan this, and his response was steadfast and candid, just like the man himself: “Drag City has the best music going if you ask me. No competition.” On this, we will agree.

Callahan has been around, living on the East Coast, the West Coast, the Midwest, the South and now the Southwest. “I ended up in Texas simply because I liked it,” explained Callahan. “I like thunderstorms and hot weather. And cold beer. There are some good people in Austin, and I am lucky to have by chance met them.” Callahan is so fond of his home state of Texas that, in anticipation of Whaleheart, he toured only in Texas before heading to Israel and Scotland. When asked about Whaleheart, Callahan seemed humble, which again plays into the theme here: subtleties. “I recorded a demo at a studio by myself. I thought that recording a demo in a studio instead of at home would make it more interesting to listen to later. It didn’t. There’s a sloppiness to demos because you know that it’s just a demo, so your body and brain withhold the power,” Callahan said. “I then sent the demo to Neil Hagerty (Royal Trux) in New Mexico and he arranged strings, backing vocals, pianos and a lot of subtle rhythmic guitar parts that propel things along. Then we all met up in Austin for a week or 10 days before Thanksgiving to record.”

The result, of course, was Whaleheart, Callahan’s best album since Knock Knock and easily one of the best so far this year. It’s an intelligent, thoughtful, swinging album full of pensive lyrics that never spill their beans but always stick to the roof of your thoughts. The melodies are beautiful and the music pitch-perfect, especially on “From the Rivers to the Ocean,” “Diamond Dancer,” “Sycamore” and “The Wheel.” But, like pretty much all of Callahan’s work, it will go largely overlooked, even by hipper-than-thou music media leaders like Pitchfork Media and Paste Magazine.

Out of personal interest, I also asked Callahan about his writing style, which more times than not seems purposefully incomplete and open to interpretation. “The funny thing is,” Callahan laughed, “that when I try to put things in the plainest terms possible in a song, people sometimes get confused and suspicious. The song you ask about [”Rock Bottom Riser”] is as straightforward as can be, so whatever it makes you feel is right.” I told Callahan that the song – which certainly seems to have (purposefully) left its basement door ajar – makes me feel happy and sad and nostalgic and scared. “There’s nothing wrong with feeling all of those emotions at the same time,” he said in response. Remember that thing I said about power? Being able to write all of those emotions into one: that’s power.

In closing, I asked Callahan if he had any advice for young artists trying to “make it” in the music world. “There isn’t any advice to offer anyone,” he said. “Work on your music or your dance moves or your hair. Whatever it is you want to work on, work on it. That’s all you can do is work, there is no insight. There are no secrets.”