Caught in the Carousel

Philip Stevenson

By Alex Green

Philip Stevenson

"Secrets travel fast in Paris," Napoleon once quipped. Maybe so, but apparently in America, they don't quite manage the velocity of the Parisians. Frustratingly, Philip Stevenson has been one of the best kept secrets of American music for the last three decades and the fact that he's not a household name is nothing short of artistic injustice. Armed with classical rock and roll songwriting smarts, a vocal delivery that can be both wistful and rueful and thoughtful lyrics rife with rich poeticism, Stevenson's one of those rare musicians who's got it all.

Stevenson and his band Carnival of Souls released Flop with little fanfare on the D.C. indie Top in 1989 and it was one of the finest albums of the decade. Years later as the '90s limped along, hungover in a post-Cobain world and Limp Bizkit, Korn and took what was never rightfully theirs, Stevenson and his new outfit Quinine signed to Beck's Bong Load and delivered the searing, meditative and altogether brilliant Regrets Only.

Since then, Stevenson has gone it alone and although his Gabriel-like space between albums (his last record Dago Red was released six years ago) leads one to believe he's not that prolific, nothing could be further from the truth. A student of old blues, old ska and old 'Stones, Stevenson admits he's got stockpiles of songs in the vaults and if we're lucky one day we'll get to hear them.

Philip Stevenson

Stevenson has always been fascinated with the quivering faultline that splinters romance to pieces and on his new offering, the often stunning Starless, he continues to peer into the fractured abyss. "Anatomy" finds him singing against a chiming, underwater guitar line that sounds as lonely as a whale crying out among the depths; "Deuteronomy" howls away with all the dirty sexy blues of the 'Stones, while the vulnerable and imploring "Fix Me" finds Stevenson begging, "fix me one more time." Elsewhere, "I'm A Boy" is the howling cousin of Springsteen's "Adam Raised A Cain," while "Weak Boys" grinds gorgeously away against Stevenson's hushed vocals. Stevenson can rock but his acoustic, confessional numbers like "If You Ever Love Something" "Don't Go Now" and "Where I Don't Belong" are some of the finest in the business. Later, there's the reassuring "More Good Than Bad," the dark kiss of "Where You're Going To" and the spare and elegant album closer "You Look So Good Tonight" which finds Stevenson conceding, "you look so good tonight/I'll let you go."

CITC was lucky enough to sit down with Stevenson for a chat:

Caught In The Carousel: It's been six years since Dago Red—why so long between albums?

Philip Stevenson: Well, there's always material but it pales quickly in my eyes. I record as I go for myself but it's hard to know what is cohesive enough to make a record. Dago Red was stuff I had recorded long before. Starless is probably two years old by now and the EP Outside The Sun is older than that. When I end up getting something out, it's usually because I can't seem to work with so much old stuff sitting around. I mean, I have probably 500 songs on tape that no one has ever heard, Lucky them.

Philip Stevenson

CITC: How has your approach to writing and recording changed from, say, 20 years ago?

PS: I write less than I used to. More of my musical energy goes into other people's projects now so I have to carve out time to relax enough to do my own thing. I used to just be happy to finish a song, and I let more slide lyrically because I thought I was being clever or something stupid like that. I think the more salient point though is that you just can't write the same song over and over again with any kind of sincerity. It might be about the same basic things like love or disappointment, but you have to at least try to get some fresh perspective on it or there's no point. I would understand if someone liked material of mine from five years ago or 15 years ago better than what I am doing now, but they have to understand that it's all such a personal thing for both parties. You gotta do what you gotta do.

CITC: And how would you describe what you do now?

PS: I just want to write a good song, you know? In a perfect world, what you feel doing it will translate a little to someone else on the back end. That's a lot to ask right there though.

CITC: Have you heard any new bands that have inspired you, or are you still inspired by the heroes that got you through high school?

PS: I don't keep up with new music exactly, I just try to get music that is new to me. Last year I got Noah Howard's The Black Ark record. Arthur Doyle's on it, too. That was a real stormer, but there's been a lot to like since. There is an incalculable amount of great music out there if you don't care about sticking with one era or style. There are these touchstones in everyone's lives that find you at a crucial time as well as being great records. Some of those for me might be The Big Star 3rd, Blood On The Tracks, Marquee Moon, Out To Lunch and the Skip James (1930's) Session. Hell, if you add Exile On Main St. in there you've already had a great evening! Quasi is definitely a superior band. Godspeed! You Black Emperor is very good, I think. Around here I like Lo Moda and Human Bell. I like hearing people dig in. That's inspiring.

CITC: Do you miss being in a band? Carnival Of Souls and Quinine are two of my all time favorites—have you thought about going down that road again?

PS: Oh sure, but a real band is hard to come by and people in bands don't know how lucky they are until it's over, usually. It's easy to take it for granted and try to make it something it's not. No band can do everything, but great bands can do one thing better than anybody else. It's easier when you are starting out though because people need each other more than they need control. Later on, it's easy for people to take out all their frustrations about being a musician on the one situation they are in. It tends to be a short ride.

Philip Stevenson

CITC: Starless is the follow up to Dago Red, which is the follow up to The Last Good Time. The latter is hard to find—any chance of a wider release?

PS: Ha ha! It was never released! That was some cassette demos I sent around. I came to my senses about that one!

CITC: Thematically, what did you have in mind for Starless, because the song cycle seems very specific.

PS: Really? Nothing really except that I tried to make a sequence you could listen to more than once. The trouble with those kind of sequences is that they tend to be the ones that aren't geared to front-loaded brains. CD's really destroyed album sequencing. Everyone puts the hits first and drags the rest of the record into the mud. I think the feel of the songs dictates where they go but sure, you may italicize the record with certain emotions. I suppose mine goes something like "I can't stand to see things crumble" to "But I understand they are going to crumble". It's a narrow world we live in.

CITC: Are the years between albums productive years? That is to say, do you have enormous stockpiles of songs in the Philip Stevenson vaults?

PS: Yeah, I do. I don't know how good they are, but they are there.

CITC: Any plans to sweep them out and release them on CD?

PS: How much time you got? I would like to because when you have too much stuff sitting around it kind of crowds the mind. However, I don't know if anyone would be interested. Really, I should move ahead and do new work because whether it is better or worse than what has come before, it's always more satisfying.

Jim Dickinson

CITC: Can you talk about your friendship with Jim Dickinson? How did that come about and what was his effect on your life?

PS: We actually met for the first time when I had him down at the Lanois place in New Orleans to record on BMG's dime. It was a fucking disaster from all legitimate perspectives. But, it was very mind-opening in a lot of ways. Jim had a huge force around him. His playing had a lot of weight. Anyway, Jim and I talked on the phone long before we met. He used to listen to cassettes of my demos and I would ask him questions about Memphis music and the people he played with. He's certainly not the only person that has had an influence on me, but I think Jim swam in such different water than I did and that made it all the more helpful in terms of perspective. We didn't agree on my music at all, really. He liked what I would call my "Beatnik" tendencies. But, he cared a lot about protecting the artist and that is as rare as hen's teeth. In the end, even though he was a genuinely brilliant guy, he was just my friend. I mean, what do you talk to your friends about, you know?

CITC: What did he teach you?

PS: I think between him and my friend Rob Schnapf I also learned a lot of record production. Jim taught me that everything you do to the music is basically wrong! Meaning once you have a fight on your hands, you're either making your record, which is unconscionable, or you're in real trouble. Getting people to feel like they can say something is what's important. It's not the same as feeling like you have something deep to say, it's just feeling like you can express things through music without losing face. If you can give it up, you always have a shot.

CITC: What's your impression of the music industry right now?

PS: Well there's not much to say is there? They killed the real album, the goose that laid the golden egg. People needed certain records and radio played them because people needed them. Now we've gone back to the 50's and it's a singles format again. And maybe no one wants to pay for records anymore because honestly, most of them are not that good. And, some of the stuff that is borderline, just trying to turn into something cool, is killed via the computer. I am not sure what record companies are thinking but surely this ecstatic orgy of tuning and compression bullshit isn't making them any money. Maybe they should try something else. The trouble is, since they don't know how to do it anymore, they aren't teaching anybody how to do it. You know, Tom Dowd isn't around anymore to give you pointers.

CITC: What are your plans for the future?

PS: I'll keep doing what I am doing, I suppose. I'll work on my own stuff and produce records for other people. If I'm lucky, I'll work with some talented people and I won't get too down when it all sounds so much worse than it does in your head. I like to listen though. I'll keep listening.

Internet: www.nightworldrecords.com
Starless is out now.