Swampmother





This is Alex Eichenberger. She's a badass. But creeping out from amidst the distorted dirty-blues riffs, is a softness. Her lyrics show a tenderness that would otherwise remain hidden behind long, black and turquoise hair. Her voice allows for a vulnerability that humanises her otherwise flawlessly indeliberate cool. This is Alex Eichenberger. Alex Eichenberger is Swampmother.


Where did Swampmother come from?

It's kind of ridiculous. I have never thought, in my life, of writing songs, I spend my time playing other people's songs - it's my job. I found a guitar in the street. It was just this little Squire Tele, it was just up the road from my house, it had the little sign on it that said, "Please take me, just needs work" and I thought, "I'll have that, alright". Um, I can't play the guitar. So I brought it home and my friend, Tim, bless him, he ripped it all to pieces, put it all together, built me a guitar, and then I didn't know how to play it and so I thought I'd write some songs, to learn. And that's what happened. That was it. I just thought I'll stick it in a silly tuning and I just kinda mucked around. I thought, "Oh, well I like blues and stuff so I'll just try and do me one of them". And that was that. And then I kinda wrote another one and another one and another one, and then JD [Smith] booked me a show at the 12 Bar, and I thought, "Oh shit, I've actually got to do it in front of people now! Hang on a sec, I haven't really thought about that". And that was the birth of it. It was just a bunch of ridiculous circumstances, I didn't really plan it.

And where did the name come from?

It was only ever a working title. It's just because my hair gets in front my face when I play and I can't get it out of the way, my friend and I were chatting once and he told me I look like that girl in The Ring when she crawls out of the well. I realized that all the domain names and twitter and stuff, nobody had taken it, so I was like, "I'll have that". And I told my mum and she said "It's okay. I'm not sure about the swamp bit… Or the mother bit". But now she's totally embraced it. She sent me a Christmas card that said, "Dear Swampmother, der-der-der, lots of love from the Swampmother-mother". That was quite sweet, bless her. The whole thing has just all a bunch of silly circumstances, nothing was pre-ordained. Lots of fun though.

You snagged Sound Cloud, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, your merch stuff (which is awesome by the way), not tumblr, though, that's somebody else's.

Haha - Some other bugger who actually put up... oh god, what did they write? It was something really funny, cos I'd taken all the Swampmother domain names. I went to get tumblr and it just said, "Hands off, bitch, it's mine".

You're a classically trained musician, are you fighting against that with this dirty-blues sound?

I never went into this thinking about writing any particular style. I just thought I'd just try and write ANY song. It wasn't a conscious decision. It's just because I like heavy music, I like blues-based music, I like that kinda thing anyway. I wouldn't say that's my only influence, I listen to as much classical music as I do non-classical, so I suppose from the classical you get a different sense of harmonic possibility. You've got this chord and this chord; thinking as a popular musician you say, "OK, I'll go here…" but thinking as a classical musician you go, "We've got ten options". So that influences how the songs come out melodically, harmonically, maybe not so much structurally. It's just born out of me, as a sum of all of my influences, it's not born out of trying to do something specific. I suppose the whole vibe has come form having fuck-all expectation about the whole thing. I didn't think anyone would listen to any of it, let alone like it.

And you've got a drummer now?

Yeah, that was kind of always the intention. I always wanted it to be heavier than what it was at the beginning, but I didn't want to compromise, so I thought, "Fuck it. I'll just do it louder on my own for the minute". Then I found a drummer that happened to play the right way for me. He's actually fucking wicked. And that was that. 

Tell me about your songwriting process because I understand you're a bit of a musical genius?

Well, songs are born in a million different ways aren't they? There are the ones that are born out of… “I've got this one line, but it's just a sentence”, and you build an entire song around this one line that you wanted in there because you thought it sounded good. Most of the time it's born out of… ah shit, there's so many ways of doing it. There's the one where you're mucking around with a guitar and you come up with something cool and you think, “OK what is this? Is it a verse or a middle-eight or a chorus or a riff?” And then you assign it a role and you build something around it, and then you just muck around vocally and eventually come up with something that sticks, and then you refine it and you tweak it. These people who write songs and go "I have written this song and it is gold, here, World, take it" without contemplating as to whether it might actually be any good, it just bemuses me. You see these people doing gigs and you just think, "Where in Christ's name is the quality control?" You know just a little bit of looking at your own work and going, "Ooh I'm not sure if that's as good I can honestly, honestly make it" wouldn’t do any harm. About the first 70 percent of the songwriting process for me is fairly quick, whatever the approach, the first 70 percent, the basic melody, chords, structure, it’s easy. The last 30 percent is the analysis bit where you go, "Yeah sure, it's ok. It starts and it finishes and there's a bit in the middle, but is it actually any good? Are those words actually anything more than just stuff out of a newspaper?". You might as well try and make them interesting. I don't like letting these things leave the house until I think they are the best I can make them.

There's a lot of resonance to personal situations and I'm an emotional person at the end of the day, so I put that stuff down. But for so long I was so funny about the sound of my voice. The idea of being a singer… Never EVER! I did a demo of 'Battles' and sent it to my mum and she said, "Aren't you afraid of sounding vulnerable?" I don't mind telling people how I feel. The feelings in the songs aren't pretend feelings, they are real feelings, they just might not be associated to that particular scenario. The whole thing is born out of real stuff. I couldn't make up how I feel about all these things, it is all born from experience, but it's put together in a different way, for the song's sake. If you can put ‘Battles’ next to ‘Hidden’, I don't think ‘Hidden’ sounds vulnerable, and contrast is good. Not everybody's sane and good all the time, so why can't I put ‘Battles’ in there, and be vulnerable too? I'm not ashamed of how I feel. It's the same with ‘You Ask Too Much’, I've go as many quiet songs as I do loud songs, it's a case of balance, but I'm not ashamed of writing songs because I don't feel so cool all the time, and I'm not gonna hide from that. I'd rather just write a good song. If you can get across how you feel in a simple enough way that people can relate to it in one way or another, but in such a way that they haven't thought of expressing it, you're on to a winner.

What I'll usually do, if I can, is record some scratch demos, even if it's just a chorus guitar part on my iPhone, and work on them from there. My laptop is full of voice memos, absolutely full to the brim, little bits and bobs here and there. Bits where I've woken up in the middle of night and sung into it, a riff that makes no sense to anybody. Literally there is one, where I've woken up in the middle of the night, bleary-eyed and gone, [whispers] "do-do-doo, ba-do-do-doo" but in my head that translates to [shouts] "DA-DA-DOW, BA-DA-DA-DOW", on its own it sounds ridiculous. I suspect I take a more theoretical approach then some people to writing because I'm classically trained, and that's just how my brain works. It seems to be working ok. I'm just happy these songs are getting finished. I counted up before christmas and, Christ, there's about 60 songs, half-done. I think, "What am I going to do with you?". Triple album.

Are there any plans to make an album?

Oh my god, I would love to! Beyond belief, if someone just said here's enough money to not have to do any other work, pay your bills and feed yourself, make a record – I’m all over that shit, I would love to. And there's enough material now to make an album. There's enough to make three. I would love to do that more than anything, but it's about practicality and money and time. So the theory is to try and do a digital release of ‘Hidden’ within the next few months, we haven’t decided if it’ll be free or paid-for, quite possibly both, so people have the choice. I'm not in this industry to make money, Christ no. I'm in this industry to make some songs that I think are good and if I were to make a record and someone were to buy it, that'd be sweet. I'm not gonna try and rinse people. I'd rather put stuff up for free and have people know what kind of music we're making. That's why ‘Battles’ is free at the moment. But the idea of doing something bigger than a little EP, feasibly, you know money-wise, I just don't know how we'd do it at the moment. It's a case of trying to use pre-existing recordings to get somebody somewhere to give a shit. Or win the lottery or take out a loan, you know? That's really the only other way it's ever going happen. So fingers-crossed for anybody giving a shit about ‘Hidden’.

What's the best show you've ever done?

It was at 12 Bar, it was the day that they announced what the closing date was going to be. It was a really weird atmosphere, but really cool. Loads of people turned up, I think partly it was busy because they just announced the demise of this brilliant place, so lots of people just showed up and thought, "Fuck it, I'll have a drink". Plus, because it was the first two-piece show lots of people came down to check that out, which was nice.  And it's such a little place, we split a few ear drums, which is nice, I think. I was proud anyway. In the grand scheme of Swampmother, I still think that was probably my favourite. It's nerve-racking when you do something like that because it's not so much that I'm nervous because I'm playing, I'm nervous because I've got this thing that I've made that I'm showing you and I'd like you to like it. Doing the very first Swampmother solo show was a bit like that, and then at 12 Bar as a two-piece was like, "I'm presenting it in a different guise now. I've got a drummer. Oh, please don't all run away". But it was great, it was really cool. I think that was my favourite.

And didn't you end up doing a random solo show supporting Lucy Rose?

Yeah, I did in Frankfurt. I play keys and samples and all sorts of odds and sods with Lucy, but we turned up and no one had booked a support, so I ended up doing it. A guitar I'd never played and a bunch of pedals I'd never used, but it was kinda nice. First gig out of London was in Frankfurt. Looks good on the CV doesn't it? It was alright. There were people there. They clapped. Honestly, if I can get to the end of a gig and they haven't all run away, I still see that as a personal victory. If people come up to you and they are kind to you about your music after a show - how often do we do that? Just say, "That was wicked". I can't remember the last time I did that? Nobody's obliged to say anything. So you do a gig in Frankfurt, no one knows who you are, but still people are in the room, they stay, they come and talk to you afterwards, they are really nice about it, they are asking the sound guy who that was playing.. It's little stuff but it does matter, it's nice to know that people can be bothered to say a nice thing, you know, even in fucking Frankfurt.

When you and Lucy are on the road, do you get into lots of trouble?

I am tour mum. I am purveyor of plasters, gaffer tape, Berocca. I am not the crazy alcoholic one. It happens rarely on tour that I get pissed, cos it's my job, you know, so I try not to screw it up. On the night that we headlined Fieldview, people were passing us whisky on stage and stuff. I got lead back to the van on account of being so drunk I could't stand up, it was only midnight, it hadn't taken long. So they put me in the van and I'm feeling alright, then I'm like, "Oh actually am I gonna be sick? Oh I'm gonna be sick". So I go outside, I was sick, fell asleep, outside, in the mud, in a ditch. Re-awoke the next day, still a bit drunk, we all drove home. I had no idea that one half of my body was completely covered in mud, so we stop at a service station and these women were looking at me like I'd just been molested and left in a ditch. When we got back I was so hungover. I'm vegan, and there's loads of stuff I don't eat, I don't eat bread, all that bollocks, but I was in need of hangover food very desperately. I went to Sainsbury’s, bought a massive loaf of tiger bread, sat on the sofa and cried watching Jennifer Ellis win fuck-loads of Olympics stuff. [Sobbing] "Oh she's so good…", "Oh god...Look at her tummy… it's amazing". It was very emotional. I just ate loads of bread being sad watching Jennifer Ellis being awesome. I'm not a very exciting person. I don't get smashed on tour, I don't do anything particularly mental, because I see it as… Well, if I was 18 and I was going on tour I'd probably be like "I'M GOING ON TOUR, MAN!" and I'd probably get smashed all the time, and that would be fine. But it matters if I do my job well because it's not my project. So it makes a difference if I go on stage and don't do my job right, if I sing bad, if I play bad, if I fuck-up, if I do the samples wrong. If you did any job badly anywhere and you turned up smashed and couldn't do your job properly, you'd get fired eventually. And I have a sweet job. I get to play for Lucy, I write string parts for emo bands, and I'll play cello for anyone that will give me money.

What's the emo thing?

Oh, its just the last two bands I did were 'Lonely the Brave' and 'You Me at Six', so I'll be making emos cry, which can be satisfying. But I do string arrangements for loads of bands.

Any other notable/famous people?

Lots for Lucy's second record which hasn't come out yet. Err... who else? Nobody massive. One of my big plans for this year is more of the string arranging cos it's loads of fun and I can do it on my laptop whilst I'm away with Lucy, cos you do end up sitting in the van a lot. I've taken it upon myself to make people cry. That's what I go for, I figure that's what strings are for. 

Yup. Watching a bunch of 17 year olds being sad listening to my strings. It's what I've been planning all along.



You can love more of Swampmother here: 





Or as featured on www.jamesperou.com




Emily & the Mainlanders





Introducing Ontario-based country-folk septet, Emily & the Mainlanders. Musically, they hark back to a simpler time, when banjos were prophets and barn-dances were church. And personally, they're just about the sweetest band I've ever met! They've just released their first album, "Landlines", and it's beautiful. I spoke to Emily Pittman (vocals, ukelele), Aine Ganly (vocals, guitar) and Emily Martin (vocals, banjo) to find out more about the band, and how the album came to be.

How many of you are there in the band?

All: Seven.

Aine: Yeah it's hard to fit us places.

Emily P: Even harder to mic! Someone once told us if someone can make us sound good they should be doing sound at the Junos! They didn't hold out much hope for us but I think we sound OK…

Emily M: It's fun, none of us have been in bands before so learning to work with 7 people is just normal for us, because it's the only thing we've ever experienced. So it's great in some ways because we've got all these different pools of knowledge and all these different connections, and we're able to pack out shows because we've got seven different people's friend groups.

Emily P: Like, who's going to hook us up with a house to play at this weekend?

Emily M: And in some ways it's really hard, too, because we have so many opinions about things, so sometimes it takes us a long time to make decisions about stuff but it's getting better…

Emily P: That's not a bad thing 'cos we always make good decisions. If it was just the three of us god knows what kind of decisions we'd be making!

Aine: We'd end every song exactly the same way.

Gillian Welch is one of your big influences. Who else influences you?

Aine:
We are big Emmylou Harris fans - I'm not sure if that comes across a lot. Maybe some of her more honky-tonk stuff.


Emily M: We definitely do the folky stuff,  but we are starting to get a little more upbeat, I don't know, all the genres sorta mash together. We bill ourselves as a folk band still. When it was just the three of us playing we played like really downbeat, really, real folk stuff.

Emily P: The first song that we sang together was Orphan Girl by Gillian, so that one's pretty... chill.

Aine: Yeah, it's changed a lot. We get compared to The Good Lovelies.

Emily M: Anything that has three women at the front. People have said like The Wailin' Jennys or The Be Good Tanyas to me - and I'm like I don't think you really mean that or if you see three women on a stage and assume.

I love your lyrics. They are just the right kind of dark. Where does that influence come from?

Emily M:
Aine wrote Lilia.


Emily P: I had a frank conversation last night with my friend, Caroline. Who was like, "Lilia is my favourite, it's so catchy but Alexa just told me it was about a prostitute" and I was like, "You didn't know that?" And she was like, "No! But I still like it!"

Aine: I listen to a lot of Justin Townes Earle when I'm writing.

Emily M: Somebody told me Lilia's such a cute song, it's just so cute, and I was like, "You know it's about a war-time prostitute right?" and she was like, "NO! I had no idea!"

Aine: We like to wrap it up in a more fun package.

Emily P: I never thought of our songs as being dark… What else…

Emily M: Ian our guitarist wrote Frontiers. And the other ones were mine. Yeah, I guess Driveway's kinda dark.

Southern Girl is my favourite...

Emily M: Oh thanks, I wrote that in a Canadian Political Science class and I was bemoaning the fact that I'm Canadian and my life is sorta boring because of that, just in terms of politics because we were talking about Canadian politics and I was bored to tears. Canadian Public Administration, the driest thing I could be learning about. And I was sorta day-dreaming about wishing I lived in the Southern States where politics is a little more interesting. Which is not what I want! But... I wrote that out of wishing I was from the area of the world where the kind of music that I really like comes from. Like, I wish I was from Nashville, and I wish I had, well, I don't really wish I had a hard life, but…

Aine: Haha, oh my god...

Emily M: Haha, to be a songwriter! I wish I had a hard life to be a song writer!

Emily P: You get good material.

Emily M: So that's where that one came from.

Aine: Loretta's actually based on a family history story.

Emily M: Yeah, Loretta is an old family story that I just learned about. My grandfather's uncle was like this murdering criminal.  It was a very nice farm family, and he was this known murderer, and they just couldn't peg anything on him so he was just always around my grandpa growing up. And he was also this very cocky guy, he was a good liar. And he would brag that he could kill someone in that corner of the field and walk across to the other corner of the field and convince the Devil that he hadn't done it - he was so sure that he was such a good liar. So I sort of took that as good song material. And then Loretta came out of that. But it's from the perspective of his wife, who he actually killed. So that one is dark, you're right!

Do each of you have your own song-writing process, because it sounds like you write very separately, is that fair to say?

Aine: Sometimes I'll bring the material to Emily [Martin] if I'm unsure of my wording or if I think something sounds dumb, then we work it out.

Emily P: But all of our harmony building is done together.

Emily M: It usually works like that. One of us will write something almost complete and I'll take it to Aine or something and she'll finish up the verses. And then we'll bring it to the band and play it on our own, then we'll sort of give it over. And then everybody adds their own parts. 'Cos I don't know anything about drums or anything about bass. And we work on the structure together.

Aine: Our drummer does a lot of the arrangements.

Emily P: We have a lot of jazz harmony geeks in the band.

Emily M: Aine and the drummer and the guitarist and the bassist are all music students so I think that really adds to it. Emily and I are pretty DIY, very casual musicians. It's good to have some of the theory behind it. They sort of can throw in ideas or give us suggestions that we wouldn't have thought of, and I think that adds a bit of depth to the music, versus just playing 1, 4 and 5 like I would love to.

Do you all study the same music?


Aine: I do classical voice stuff, so in my spare time I'm singing opera arias and french art songs. Then I come here and do this and it's so weird, I love it. I played a show with the Guelph Symphony, sang all this opera choir stuff and then ran over to our CD release and played. The rest of the guys in the band are jazz students.


Emily M: And then our fiddle player grew up doing Suzuki Method music. It's a lot of listening to things and then learning to play it back. So he has a very unique style of learning and playing, so it's interesting to get all those to work together - the more academic and the more applied.

Tell us about the new album...


Aine: The album art and even the name of our band, a lot of it seems to revolve around Emily's experience as a Newfoundlander coming over and being surrounded by all us mainlanders.

Emily P: There's a lot of crazy people up here...

Emily & the Mainlanders: Hahaha

Emily M: And part of what I like about the title, "Landlines", is the idea, like a landline phone, is something that is sort of obsolete now, and it's kind of this romantic concept, you know, like someone calling you on the phone as part of you know... courting or whatever, that's a dumb word. But it's sort of this out of date, archaic concept…

Emily P: It's nostalgic…

Emily M: Yeah, I think the music is very nostalgic. It's nostalgic for a time and stuff that we haven't experienced. Personally, my taste in music is a lot of music that was created long before I was born, or was created by people pretending it was created before they were born. Which I think is kind of what we're doing, too. So I think it's a lot about nostalgia and romanticizing the past. And trying to play the music the way that they used to.

When I first heard your EP with Lilia, Southern Girl and Hands, I made a note in this book, and all I wrote was 1800's, North American...

Emily M: I think that's accurate for those 3, and then our sound changed a lot with the other 5. They're more upbeat and a little poppier.

Aine: I think that was definitely a response to the kind of gigs we ended up playing, because we were like maybe people don't want to be sitting down.

Emily M: We wanted our friends to be able to get up and dance. So we got a little bit rockier. One thing you should know about the album, when you get the hard copy you'll see it, they're sort of organized the 5 first songs, then a line and then those 3 songs - the 1800's North America - because they were done in two different recording sessions.

Emily P: With the same guy, recording engineer and producer Daniel Kruger of the afrobeat/free improvised ensemble, Manatee.

Emily M: But they were done a year apart in different houses. He had a year to learn about this stuff, because this is not his type of music to record, typically.

Aine: Yeah, it was the first time he had ever recorded a banjo!

Emily M: Yeah, so it was new for him.

Emily P: And for us.

Emily M: Yeah, and for us! Totally new for us. We were soooo unhelpful for that reason…

Emily P: Haha so unhelpful! Like we had a bass player who had never played with us before and he got there and he was like, "So do you have a score for me?... Like, how am I supposed to know what to play?" And we were like, "We have chords, does that help you?" And he was like, "… No". He still plays with us though, so it couldn't have been that bad. Haha…

Emily M: We had jammed with him and we thought it sounded great, we thought we'd get there and just start recording, but we got there and he was like I have no idea what you want me to play. We just didn't know what we were getting ourselves into.

Emily P: We had no idea.

Emily M: Anyways, the point is they were recorded in two different sessions. Sort of like an a-side / b-side idea. So there's the a-side, if you will, the first 5 songs on the album are more polished and have that more upbeat sound. And then the b-side is the more rougher, unpolished, those 3 original tracks. Which we just did 'cos we wanted a record of all this work that we'd done. And even the guy who recorded it was pretty hesitant, he thought it might sound pretty weird because they are very different sound qualities, but we just did it. I don't know if that's a thing people do. And they're mastered totally differently, so people might notice that and that might be weird but we don't care.

Emily P: We're not worried about it.

Emily M: It's easy and fun. We're really excited about it. So many great friends, great support.



You can find out more from Emily & the Mainlanders at:










...or buy "Landlines" from www.remudarecords.com/shop





JD Smith


Two degrees of separation from Elvis...







He's supported Wanda Jackson. He's worked with Imelda May. His book, 'How to Make it in Music', has sold twenty-two-thousand copies. Jack Daniels paid him to go on a rockabilly tour of the UK. He married a stripper in Vegas. Oh yeah, and he's an amazing blues guitarist! This is the incredibly interesting and even more talented JD Smith. 

So here's something I didn't know about you before today… you wrote a book?

"How to Make it in Music".. and it's a real book… it sold 22k copies. Still on Amazon. I don't make any money from it. I just did it cos I wanted to. I wanted the experience. It almost killed me. That last month I was writing a book, working a full time job and I was gigging - that was July 2008.


Hardcore. And you supported Wanda Jackson…


I supported Wanda Jackson at the Luminaire. It was random... the manager had my name on file, he got in touch and asked if I wanted to support Wanda Jackson. First I asked is she still alive. It was me, Hot Rocket Trio and Wanda. She's lovely, but I didn't get to see any of her show. Me, Ben the Bassist of Hot Rocket Trio and Owen the drummer were just sat backstage with her manager (who's her husband) who was just feeding us beers. He was getting us free beers and telling us about Elvis and Jerry Lee Lewis. So I didn't get to see any of her set. We just had this guy from Tennessee telling us how he saw Jerry Lee a couple of weeks ago… I got pretty drunk and got paid 85 quid. I got a signed picture of Wanda to my name and everything.


So you were supporting Wanda Jackson, you had worked with Imelda May on your first album, what happened to your momentum?

Errr…. I became an alcoholic. That'll do that to you. It's kind of a circumstance of gigging. Especially for two years, 2009/2010, I did over 700 shows. And as you know there's the bit before the gig, there's getting to the venue, there's the gig then there's the after party. It's an easy trap to fall into. It is a hard life. I got really, really tired... it's so much like a chase. I love playing, and I do still love playing. If you're doing it every single night though, and you're drinking as much as I used to you sort of get into this routine, you don't enjoy the gigs and they just become an excuse to drink. And now when I play I only do 5 or 6 shows a month. I only do paid gigs and I enjoy them a lot more. And I have so much more time in the evening to do things and sort myself out. I can read books. And remember them. I'm loving it! I can go to the cinema, and be a normal person as much as I can be. Not playing means I can promote it more. It means I can claw my reputation back a little, because people started to know me as drunk JD. I had to stay away from the 12 Bar for 6 months. I was never bad at the Windmill - I was always on my best behaviour, but places with old habits. Silver Bullet, I stopped going for a while. And then you start to reintroduce yourself back into the world I suppose.


As a reformed artist...?


Well, yeah. Now I write. I'm going back into the studio this year with material, with ideas and with structure. And I never used to do that. My publishers, Bucks, knew me as this live act, really loud, and it's different in the studio, it's hard to capture that live sound. It's dry in the studio. Do what Tom Waits did on Night Hawks At The Diner and bring all your friends and pretend it's a live album. That's what Rage did on their first album, they played the whole thing live to friends. They did it at Sun City. They did 6 tracks in one evening, they played the whole thing live, that's why it sounds like what it does, they were so well rehearsed, one take on every song.


When you're playing a live show, do you assess the audience and then work out what you're going to do, do you have a set list or are you making it up as you're going along?


It's all improvised. It's all made up. I don't have set lists, I don't know what my songs are called. There's structure. The blues by its nature is a structure, you can follow a rule. And you can read an audience, how busy a room is, how much people are talking, and then play your set to the crowd. I've watched too many acts, they have a set list and they'll just stick to it, and it won't work. They'll be playing upbeat songs and the crowd is listening, then they play the break-up song and it goes quiet and no one cares, you've lost them, for the rest of the set they're not coming back. I prefer the heavy, loud shows. I know I can do that. Whereas if you stick me somewhere like the Slaughtered Lamb, whenever I play there everyone's quiet and attentive and watching. I always hate it. I prefer the busy bar. When I toured for Jack Daniels, I would go on stage for 150 pissed chavs and get them dancing. Most acoustic acts are the opposite. Playing an O'Neills in Glasgow, most people would be fucked. I prefer it. For that entire tour in all those O'Neills bars, no one clapped. The Glasgow show, I did an hour and a half, no one clapped, no one paid any attention, but after the set loads of people are buying me drinks. It was the same in Liverpool. That's how those shows work. If you're craving a round of applause, you're not gonna get it. That's what I tell people who play 12 Bar. There might be only 3 people in the room but the sound goes right through the bar. You don't know who's listening. One time I played there to a room of three or four people and the Libertines/Babyshambles manager comes up to me after my show and says 'Sorry I wasn't in the room, but I really like your stuff'. I like getting heckled. I want someone to shout something, I want people to get involved. If it feels like they're involved it's a different gig, I can remember that show.


What's the best heckle you've ever had?


For years I used to co-run this show on the King's Road. Every night, these 3 guys would come down that worked locally. And one of them would come up to me at the beginning of the show and apologize, he'd say "I'm sorry I'm gonna get drunk and I'm gonna heckle you, I'm sorry" and 2 hours later he'd be drunk and he'd be heckling me. And he'd start out with Elvis songs, he'd be shouting for Elvis songs and eventually he'd just be shouting Suspicious Minds over and over, so one time I played it, and handed him the microphone and he didn't even know the words. He was too drunk. His friends came and apologized after the show. I'm used to it.


So what's next…


Going back in the studio. I've found a producer to work with, who I met at *secret venue* that time that you came down. The two of us are on the same wave length. I'm massively into electronic music, always have been. So we're planning something blues, but quite electronic. It will still have the slide element to it. That's why I like working with him. He's done something similar with a couple of people he's worked with and stuff that he's sat and done himself. The idea is the Beck album, Midnight Vultures, which is a fantastic record - that sort of idea. I wanna get away from the traditional blues album. Alex from Swampmother will also be involved, we are writing songs together. She'll be doing backing vocals. She is such an amazing musician, she can hear things no one else can hear. She'll hear what to do. She's an incredibly gifted natural musician, she's the best I know, and the only one I'll listen to.


Anything else you want to throw in here…


I haven't even mentioned that I went to Vegas and married a stripper. 


We'll get to that next time. For now, there's more about JD here...











Rosie May




Rosie is a 23 year old independent songstress from the South-West of England. She is one of our heroines here at Remuda. She is a great guitarist, a beautiful lyricist and her voice has a soft power that kinda rips out your heart whilst it kisses your throat. Making music is what she's best at. Travelling is her hidden passion. So, inevitably, she wound up organizing her own European tour, which is no mean feat, and is just another of the many reasons why we love her so. We caught up with Rosie to find out how the tour went….

Hey Hey Rosie May! Tell us about Europe…

Well it all started with me emailing hundreds, and I mean literally hundreds, of venues all over Europe. I heard back from, like, a handful. None in the South of France - so I had this gap in my tour I was trying to organize. Lots of venues in Spain did get back to me - which was great. Thing about Spain is, folk is unheard of…

They don't have folk in Spain…?

No! They have lots of Flamenco, Jazz, Spanish guitar or rock but not really folk.
But they loved me because I was different. It's not like in London, where the audience can be listening to anything anywhere and so they kinda turn up at your shows really wanting to be impressed. In Seville I was mentioned in a local "What's On" publication and literally hundreds of people turned up to see me because I was different. I didn't get paid but the promoters are so nice! They made sure I had everything I needed. One of them even let me share his family home. And I ended up making hundreds of Euros selling CD's. It's much easier to make fans there. In many ways London is the centre of the Universe, but we should go further afield. 
After I played one of the shows in Seville, I found out that 3 or 4 of the best Flamenco guitarists in Seville (AKA THE WORLD!) were in the audience. Thankfully it was after the show that I found out else I would have been taken off stage shaking or peed my pants.

Haha - Did you find out what they thought of you? 

One of them is my boyfriend's Flamenco teacher. My boyfriend's English, but he lived there for a few years studying Flamenco guitar. So... at the time I didn't know this Flamenco teacher, but we've since become pals. He said he loved "Infatuation" so much he was sure I couldn't have written it... Which is a bit of a back-handed compliment, but he invited me to record with him. I love it when someone has mastered their instrument. He gets paid the big bucks to travel all over Europe playing and teaching Flamenco, sessioning. So I was super-chuffed to record with him. 

Did you record anything we'd know?

We did "White Christmas" and another version of "Infatuation".

So is that gonna be a Christmas release do you reckon?

I like the idea of recording Christmas songs throughout the year and releasing an entire album all at once. "Infatuation" may be a free download…

Rumour has it you have a new album coming out around the new year? 

I've got a lot of old songs knocking about. When I had a band (I loved having a band so much), it changed the songs so much, invigorated them. We were playing "Never had a plan" and it was EPIC! Oh my god! It was psychedelic! There's a word I never thought I'd use to describe my music. It was SO good! At the beginning of the year I spent 6 months in London toying with this album - recording demos, etc. Ive got 5 or 6 songs that I know I want on it, and the rest I still have to write. I would like to record them all together so that there is some sort of unconscious theme. I'm in no rush though. You sometimes get these blocks when it comes to writing - and they feel terrible if you let them make you feel like you'll never write anything again. The last full song I wrote was Bellissima - the last track on my last EP - Roof over our Heads. The song was an 8 minute epic and I'm still really proud of that.
I'm glad I'm giving this album breathing space. Two years ago I would have had no idea what I wanted to do with it but now I'm ready - and glad to give it the space it needs.
I've had a lot going on at home this past year. I've been travelling the South-West of England - trying to see my country. Since my last EP release last May I've had so many wonderful experiences. I've been getting into REAL traditional folk, you know, like a capella shanties. I hate when people talk about 'getting to know their roots', but I'm getting to know my roots... Real, English, Shanty-folk roots.
I've got a jazzy voice, a folk feel and a Flamenco-playing boyfriend. Plus, when I've got a band it's pretty rocky - I feel pretty inspired right now.

You can get to know Rosie even better here…