Jess Klein – Backstage

So here I am back in TX, after a month in Ireland and England.  I could, and have done, go on at length about how gorgeous Ireland is, how it looks to me like the outward reflection of my soul – (an idea that Anais Nin talks about in one of her diaries.  She says everyone has some place which looks like their soul. I’m grossly paraphrasing, but it’s roughly the idea.)

Last night we had a dinner here at the cottages – I haven’t written about the cottages in a few months, but to summarize, my neighbor decided she wouldn’t stand for our cottages to be torn down in order for the developers to build multi-family condo units.  But here’s the twist in the story: she actually won.  We all won.  She convinced them to give us 6 of the cottages AND enough money to move them to a new plot of land.  Then… we were wondering where on earth we would put them.  Enter Design Build Alliance, a nonprofit headed by UT Architecture Prof. Stephen Ross and Rick Linklater, the filmmaker.  Suddenly we were talking to the right people.  They are funding the project, the land, and putting it into the books that these cottages will forever be rented to artists at an affordable price.  Can you believe it?  Last night all the people involved in the project came by and we had a potluck.  I feel so blessed to live in such a creative community.  That’s a huge understatement.

Today I was knee deep in sorting out emails and receipts post-tour when I got a knock on my door: my friends Charlie and Will were here with a bike – for me!  They knew I needed a bike so they bought one at a Halloween yard sale.  It’s bright blue!

I’m speechless.

Thanks to Charlie and Will!

I was just reminded by my faithful webmaster of my blog password.  Does it matter that I lose all sense of time on the road?

Just off a few shows here in Ireland with the lovely Erin McKeown.  The best of the times, I probably couldn’t really write about here, under some kind of confidentiality agreement for the kinds of jokes that slip our mouths at 3 in the morning and in freezing cold dressing rooms, but let’s just say the girl makes me hold my gut laughing.  We were both still jet-lagged when we took the bus from Cork to Limerick, and passed out in that full on no dreams jet-lag kind of state.  Luckily someone woke her up and so I woke up to her in my face saying “You have to wake up! Now!”

We saw a brilliant band on after us in Cork called Mumford & Sons.  Jesus, they were fantastic.  Kind of like Arcade Fire or something, but really on fire, I mean not really, but almost.

The past few days while my friends were out at work I’ve walked around Dublin in the rain, just so happy to see the place and the people.  I stopped on the canal to look at the Swans and then on some unspoken cue they all began to swim towards me.  I was laughing out loud to myself.  Clearly they thought food would be involved.  I didn’t want to be cruel, so I started walking away, but they were swimming along side, following me.  Then for the craic, I stopped again, I couldn’t help it.  They were undeterred, but I still had no food.

Saw Ron Sexsmith at Whelan’s on Thursday, oh my goodness.  I felt like I learned something about love listening to that man sing and play.

Tied up Halloween by walking around looking at costumes and then watching a few episodes of Father Ted.

New songs are in progress.  It’s strange the in-between stages, where you don’t really know yet what you’re going to say or how it will sound to people.  They’re piling up.  Got about 30 of ‘em now.  My psychic says they’ll all go to some use.  But I think I’ve got a few more to write before recording.

Tonight we’re off to see my old mate Luka Bloom at Vicar Street.  I can’t wait.

As I type this, someone’s on American Idol in the background singing an overwrought version of Time after Time.  I wish our culture didn’t make us so judgmental about everything.  It’s hard to know what the think these days.

We’re all waiting on November 4th…

More soon –

Flew to Nashville at the last minute for the AMA Conference this weekend (Americana Music not American Medical).  Met lots of cool artists, and most favoritely, not only the wonderful Brian Keane, who co-wrote the song of the year, “She Left Me for Jesus” with Hayes Carll, but, even more exciting, the woman who inspired the song – I don’t really know if I’m supposed to say whom (sorry to be coy) but we hit it off and cracked each other up right away.

The other thrill was a late night party at the home of Gail Davies, who produced dozens of top ten and top twenty hits in the 80’s and seems to have played with everyone – you can look her up online for that stuff, but it was just so nice to be welcomed into her home for wine and salad and sit around playing songs til the wee hours.

Here’s a pic of her son, Chris Scruggs, his girlfriend Andrea, and myself on the couch listening to Bonnie Bramlett sing her heart out on the stereo.

Doing my self-promotional best here – my friend Mark Addison and I recorded a cover of Shwayze’s Corona and Lime and now it’s up on iTunes – tasty!  Download it  now!  (That’s me on the distorted bass!)

Ok, am I sounding redundant?  I love this town.  Last night I went to my first ACL taping – Aimee Mann.  I’ve seen this show on tv so many times.  When my friend and I walked into the set, after being handed free beer (so Austin) I was reduced to a giggling teenager.  “I’ve seen this set on tv so many times!”  I squealed.  The skyline of my new hometown in the background, lit up, even – as a tribute to the building that seems to go on here non-stop – a little lit up crane (!), something I imagine the set designer throwing in as commentary – reminds me of the TX license plates which are mostly a western scene – cactus, coyote, cowboy, starry sky, and then  – oh! – the space shuttle. I always think, the government insisted on that part…

Aimee and her band were stellar, the best moments were when she made fun of the people leaving between songs to go use the bathroom; “Pee-ers”, she said.  She also had a great moment of explaining to us how f*ing nervous she was with the one-eyed monster moving cameras in her face the whole time – brilliant candidness.

The taping ended at ten p.m. and the night was still young by Austin standards, so my friends and I rolled down to the Saxon, which I’ve probably mentioned in ten other blogs because it’s my favorite club ever, not just because it has a weird olde english vibe and name, and a gigantic Knight in armour out front by the side of the road, but because it’s always my friends and neighbors onstage, playing the kick-ass-est music ever.  Last night was Bruce Hughes and the All Nude Army, who would be great even if they just had the name and nothing else, but they were really throwing down, and as always at the Saxon, whenever there’s a beat, people were dancing right in front of the stage. It was hard to sit still!

Here’s a pic of the ACL soundstage.

Last night was contemplating life, yurts, Larry McMurtry and other assorted topics with my neighbor out on our sidewalk, and enjoying the lighter side of Hurricane Gustav – a cool breeze under the stars – when one of many neighborhood cats, a big white siamese named Si Baba, skulked up, a tiny curling tail hanging from its teeth.  “What did you bring me?”, I said.  My neighbor (far more evolved than I) encouraged Si Baba to drop the creature so it could live.  “You can let him go”, he coaxed.  Once it was out of Si Baba’s teeth, we saw it had been just a tail, wiggling alone.  I bent over and saw a little tail-less lime-green gecko a few inches away.  Ok, said my neighbor, I’ll hold the cat, you pick up the lizard…yeah, right – this isn’t something we do in NY, dude – but I thought, maybe this little fella’s life is at stake, so okay…but I half-picked him up with too little confidence and then he fell.  I couldn’t find him until I felt something in the leg of my jeans!  The little guy was holding onto my shin for dear life.  For a few moments I kept trying to either gently squeeze or shake him out without anyone getting hurt.  I kept saying, “Um, ok, um, ah!  I don’t know, um, ok…”  I was just about to go inside and try to carefully drop my pants when he scooted out.

This time Jud held the cat back with one hand and scooped up the gecko with the other and delivered him safely to the shrubs.  He pointed out that the tail would grow back quickly.  Also that I could tell my friends in NY about the incident, so I guess I’m not fooling anyone – but I think next time I’d be prepared and scoop up the lizard as opposed to trying to use my fingers like a crane!  I’m learning!

The cottages where I live are slated to be torn down. I knew this going in.  Originally I said, “whatever, who knows where I’ll be in 6 months.  Everything is temporary.”  Now I live here:  I see the way being surrounded by neighbors as creative as me, living centrally and affordably are real treasures.  My neighbor has been fighting the good fight with City Hall, and got me involved – my heart got me involved in fact, because I understand now why people fight for things that hit close to home, in their home – when something matters that much to you, you can’t not fight.

I was wondering how far this would actually get us when my neighbor texted me: “pick up a copy of the Chronicle.”  The cover story of last week’s Austin Chronicle featured a picture of the Mayor of Austin and one of his councilmembers with guitars, striking poses, and inside was a huge article called “Can the Bands Play On?” about whether, as Austin grows (faster than any other U.S. city), its musicians and artists – a big part of its draw for both tourists and people moving here, and the basis of its proud claim to be “Live Music Capital of the World” – can actually still afford to live here.  Detailed in the article were committees and subcommittees of the City Council who are actually working on ways to make sure musicians can still thrive here as prices skyrocket relative to how they were before the population boom.

Now, coming from NYC, and having spent most of my life on the East Coast, I was actually laughing I was so in shock this would be the cover story on one of the city’s biggest weekly papers, and to see the Mayor actually cares!  Man, was I thrilled – AM I thrilled. I obviously came to the right place.

Since I started to talk to people about it, I’ve run into people who sit on these councils, people who are part of PAC’s to preserve affordable housing, people who know people.  At Whole Foods tonight I ran into someone who makes it his job to advocate for fair housing and actually won against a huge developer here a few years ago to keep an apartment building that housed firefighters, nurses, teachers north of town (they wanted to tear it town and put up luxury condos those people couldn’t afford).

Anyway, I’m sure I’ll have more to report soon, but here’s the letter to the editor I wrote today:

To the Editor:

Thank you for your articles in last week’s Chronicle (“Can The Bands Play On?” and “Rockin’ Solutions: A Four Piece Combo”), which I read in happy disbelief. As a working musician and recent transplant from New York City – where artists are increasingly getting priced out – I was thrilled to get confirmation from Mayor Wynn and the Live Music Task Force that I’d moved to a place where Live Music is valued for what it is: a vital element of any thriving city, and one of the driving forces behind the recent population and economic boom here. I moved here because of two of Austin’s unique qualities: the heartfelt appreciation of audiences for live music I’ve seen in every Austin venue, and the fact that I could afford to live here comfortably when I’m not on tour.

A few nights ago at the Wilson Street Cottages (aka ‘Hillbilly Heights’) in South Austin (of which I am a resident), a group of musicians, producers and friends gathered around a slow roasting brisket to share songs and worries, stargaze, and wonder where we will each move if forced to leave when the cottages are torn down, as the landlord has notified us they will be sometime after September of this year, so that condos can be built. What a shame it would be to lose this South Austin landmark and the community that goes with it: the Wilson Street Cottages have housed musicians since the 1970’s, providing a cheap roof for the likes of Stevie Ray Vaughn, the Gourds, Carolyn Wonderland and others while they kept Austin rocking. Current residents include Scrappy Jud Newcomb, Walter Tragert, Charlie Faye, me, and others. (I’ve personally lived in several cities and traveled around the world and I’ve never been as inspired by my surroundings or felt as welcome as I do living here surrounded by such talented neighbors.)

But the buildings are in disrepair – built in the 1940s for returning GIs – and could use some serious fixing. So given the choice between putting money into a low-rent property and razing it to make way for condos, the owner’s decision is understandable, but it still leaves the musicians in a real bind, and this is just one example of this kind of thing. As Austin continues to grow and expand, what are its options for the Wilson Street Cottages?

I’m glad to be living where this discussion is alive and well.

Thanks Austin!

Jess Klein

Musician

What could be cooler than watching people watch fireworks?  (Is this too passive?  I found it thrilling).  One man holding a big sparkler up toward the starry sky and people of all sizes facing him, jaws open, staring…I was out at a beach – it was on a manmade lake, but that really didn’t decrease the thrill.  I mean, it was manmade by damming a river, so that’s ok, I think.  There was a stage someone brought in and great music, and some nopalitos salad, and avocados, a mango.  Kids everywhere, people in tattoos running after them so they didn’t tumble into the ravine in their summertime reverie.

All week prior to yesterday I dogsat for a friend at his ranch house/studio.  Couldn’t get online, forced to write and record more songs.  And then take a break to look at the broad landscape.  On the gravel driveway I saw:  two bunnies, a possum, a bullfrog.  I crouched down and tried (from a distance) to communicate in a peaceful way with the rabbit, who was stock still, one eye fearfully fixed on me.  But then I realized it’s fear of humans is probably a good thing – not everyone would be on the lookout or as interested in communicating as me.  The possum was weird.  I wrote ‘Danger Love Beware’, probably the single for the new album, in about 15 minutes, crying so hard I was laughing at how weird life is, how much I needed to get that song out, and do so out in the middle of Texas where no one could hear me or judge, where I could forget I was hearing myself, and just make the noise.  Sounds gothic.  Going to read Lonesome Dove when I can get a copy – I mean, when I get around to it, obviously I could go anywhere and get one.  Also on the list, Guns, Germs and Steel which my neighbor got me interested in.

Tomorrow I’m going to a lamb roast, which I’m not really sure how I feel about – I mean, I have a strong curiosity about how people will act in that setting, and I certainly respect anyone willing to go through the custom of roasting it (I do mean whole), but I probably won’t eat it.  Or maybe I will.

Other than this, I’m starting to realize what it really means to make a home somewhere, how you slowly adjust to things, make them your own; how you can choose how you define yourself (or not define yourself) in a new place.  How you can take your time to do so, not be roped in so fast, l’il doggie…at least I feel this way, in this situation.  I feel lucky to have so much liberty.  If I think about it too much, I get freaked out, so I try to go day to day.

Tonight I play my first Austin show as a resident…

It’s not NY. You have to move slow and people are friendly – sincerely friendly to each other – it’s a practical issue: If you lived in 100 degree heat with the danger of rattlesnakes, scorpions, waterbugs (in NY we scream and call these “huge f*ing roaches!”, you would be friendly to your neighbors too. Luckily this friendliness is contagious and enjoyable. I’m still getting used to it.  Life is different without the anonymity of NY.

I keep writing though. I don’t seem to need those secrets anymore – maybe this comes with the territory. Secrecy has morphed into something like a maternal love for the world and everything in it. Today I wrote a song called “I’m bound to love” or “Bound to Love” or something. I’m becoming one of those people who loves the world and makes potions out of herbs. Did you know you can cleanse your face with crushed almonds? Well, you can.

Next week I’m going to dogsit for a new friend who has a big ranch house with a studio in it, and while I’m there I’ll be recording demos of my new songs. Demos – weird word. “Here are some demonstrations of my songs” – that’s even weirder. I probably won’t call the album ‘dogsitting’, because I don’t like the sound of the word, but it’s pretty serendipitous to be able to take care of four friendly dogs, and a cat, and get to work on my songs all day in a great big house. Although, this is where the rattlesnakes come in – I was shown a large hedge clippers with which I should decapitate said snakes if I see any in the yard… People outside of the southwestern U.S.: did you know a rattlesnake can still kill you even if it’s dead, if its head is still attached? The muscular response which attacks you is connected to the heat sensors, which are located in the head. I ran this by my neighbor, thinking I had some pretty exciting news, but he’s lived in TX for many years so he just said, “Yeah”.

I think also, you can’t stay mad around here, despite cartoon caricatures of shriveled old men with rifles – but it’s too hot to get mad. Why bother? It’s better to just have a beer and go see some music. I saw Bobby Whitlock, who co-wrote with Clapton all the songs on Layla in my favorite local venue Sunday night, like it was no big deal. Sublime.

I talked to a friend on the phone yesterday who said she felt fired up talking to me, and another here told me I give her energy. I feel lucky.

Here I am in a coffee shop and just overheard one of the guys who works here say to his co-worker: “Would you be able to deal with a stuffed animal dog that used to be your real dog?”

Sounds like something out of a David Lynch movie.

Every time I say to someone in Austin, “I need ____”, whatever the thing in question was then mysteriously enters my world within a day or two.  For example, “I need a kitchen table and chairs”: my friend has a spare set in her garage, along with some gallons of paint in colors I like.  “I need silveware, plates, decorative items” (the movers lost mine): The Salvation Army has a half off sale on Saturday – and I don’t mean ugly stuff, people – this place is style central – and then the cashier actually undercuts my bid on a whole box of goodies including a bright orange mod vase – ok, it kind of looks like a mod pumpkin, but in a good way.  “I need a bike”: another friend works somewhere with a large lost and found collection of long unclaimed bikes.  “I need a car”: yet another friend is going on vacation for 2 weeks and out of the blue offers to lend me hers.  Gives a girl a sense of abundance.  It’s pretty amazing, actually.  There’s some kind of crossing of planetary lines here that allow (all of us?) to find what we need – I mean, ok, is that always the case everywhere, like did I need to develop an acute thyroid condition last fall and lose my voice in Sweden for a week?  Maybe.  What do we really need?  But it’s a lot more fun this way.

The friend with the bikes pulled up to my place last night in a dark green vintage Triumph convertible, and while I’m guffawing in the bucket seat, points out the collection of scarves she keeps in the glove to keep a girl’s hair from getting mussed.  “I feel like we’re in some southern novel!” I exclaimed.  “We are!” she said as we tore off down the street with Al Green blaring.

So I’m going to try “I need to give this place as much good vibes as possible” and I’ll let you know what comes of it.  I’m still hiding in my house a bit, but my days are numbered…

jk