Chuck Prophet

 
 
 

“When something ends up making too much sense, you've taken all the poetry out of it. You want to make sense, but you don't want to make too much sense.”

On his new album The Land That Time Forgot, Chuck Prophet again proves that politically relevant lyrics can be poetic. And he has no time to wait.

 

Chuck Prophet waits for no muse. I’ve interviewed songwriters who’ve been around for fifty years and songwriters who have been around for two, and one thing is clear: if longevity matters, you must treat songwriting as work. None of this “waiting for the muse” business. Prophet’s discipline has made him an acclaimed songwriter for over 35 years, and you don’t have that kind of career by writing when you feel like it.

I thought of this when Prophet told me that after getting back from one European tour, his sleep cycle was all messed up. He was waking up at 3am because of the jet lag, and rather then staying in bed, he went down to his studio and was writing by 4am. They don’t call him “King of the Rewrites” for nothing. He’s even got a preferred place to write: the ripped out bench seat from a Ford Econoline van that he toured in. According to Prophet, “that’s where the mojo is.”

Chuck Prophet’s new album The Land That Time Forgot comes out August 21 on Yep Roc Records . Read my interview with him and watch the full version below. The text below has been edited for length and clarity.

 
 
 
 

How much writing are you doing outside of songwriting?

A

Around 1997 I got clean. I live in San Francisco, so I would wander in and out of these coffee shops, and I noticed that people had laptops. And I thought, Maybe that's something I can do. I got one of those early laptops and corresponded with a lot with people. I think a lot of writing comes from my correspondence. With the amount that I toured overseas, I was isolated. It's kind of disappointing when people want to text, because I like to use a little bold and italics occasionally to get my point across.

I can't say that I've ever really been somebody that keeps a journal. But I always have something to read in my backpack. ED NOTE: Prophet keeps a fantastic blog on his website, so he’s being too humble here.

That was going to be my last question, but let’s talk about it now. Who are some of your favorite writers?

A

I really like Charles Bukowski, and he led me to John Fante. I read a lot of popular stuff like Elmore Leonard too; my tastes are not that high falutin’, but my thing is to use the smallest word you can use and as few of them as you can.

Bukowski always seems to be a favorite of songwriters, as are Vonnegut and Cormac McCarthy. Why do you think that is?

A

I think everything influences my songwriting because if I have my antenna up, then I'm desperate. I mean, I'm looking for that idea, and I don't really know where it's going to come from. The thing about reading is that it's not like television [and the usual tropes], where within 15 minutes you feel like, Oh, I've seen this before. It's not going to bring you the unexpected. With Law and Order, [there are no surprises].

The same goes with songwriting. I was talking to a mutual friend, a songwriter, and we were talking about some very successful Nashville songwriters and they'll do things like, here's what we need to channel and here's what we need to think. My friend's thought was everything they turn in is getting made, so they have the opportunity to break some rules and take it somewhere. People will follow you, but it's really easy to fall into those sort of comfortable structures that are known to work.

 
 
 
 

With those authors, do you think it’s the economy of language that songwriters like and try to emulate? No one is citing Jane Austen or William Faulkner.

A

With Faulkner, there's a lot of work, but I think it's worth it. Somebody once asked Mary Carr, the great memoirist, what advice she would give to somebody who's trying to write a memoir. She said "Well, don't read Mary Carr."

She says don't read above your weight class. I'm reading some Stevie Smith poetry now. I mean, I try to read above my weight class occasionally, but to answer your question, I think people like Elmore Leonard because he can capture the voice of a character. And I'm interested in that as much as I'm interested in poetry or doing those kinds of cartwheels across the page.

 
 
Everything influences my songwriting because if I have my antenna up, then I’m desperate. I mean, I’m looking for that idea, and I don’t really know where it’s going to come from.
 
 

Are you a Hemingway fan?

A

Definitely. When I think of Hemingway, I think of Hunter S. Thompson. who it was said typed out an entire Hemingway novel when he was in the service. Wasn’t it Ezra Pound who said, “Fill your heart with noble rhythms,” or something like that? Hunter S Thompson was really trying to get that cadence of the short sentences that Hemingway was known for.

I return to my favorites like Dennis Johnson and Jim Carroll. I work a lot with songwriter and poet named klipschutz, so I'm probably influenced by him and also by Jim Harrison. I've read a lot of Harry Crews through the years also.

Back to your writing. You mentioned antennas earlier. Are they always consciously up?

A

I tend to write in clusters. I got an office probably 15 years ago, and I would write there and just leave the papers on the ground. That office improves the quality of my life by slowing things down. This is all part of me trying to have some quality of life and protect my mental health a little bit.

When I get hot, I'm hot. And I can't really explain that. I mean, sometimes I'll be working on a cluster of three songs and there'll be problems . But then there are days when I just feel like I can solve any problem that's in front of me.

What do you mean by “clusters”? And why do you think that works for you?

A

I write albums, though of course I do a lot of co-writing. I write on assignment, and I've written a lot of things for film and television over the years with a gun to my head. I've written under all kinds of circumstances. But when I'm writing an album, I'm playing around with musical styles. I'll do a lot of listening, and once I've got some songs, I'll reward myself with some demos. I'll get a few musicians together and throw the chord changes out and hear what they sound like coming out of the big speakers.

Doing that can help me see what’s floating to the top and what I'll just push through. If I get two or three songs that are a different musical style, or there's something thematically or content-wise that is fresh, I might get excited. All my records have some sort of theme. Maybe I knew it, maybe I didn't know it, maybe I had to invent it when it came out for the press release, or maybe six months later people start telling me what it was. There's generally something like that at work. Then I'll start trying to cast the record like a movie.

How do you know when you’ve hit on something fresh like that?

A

It takes me somewhere I've never been before. To the average person, if they stand back and squint, they may think it sounds like Chuck Prophet. But to me, it could be something musically or something about the groove underneath the song's feet. It's different stylistically.

 
Photo by Lauren Tabak

Photo by Lauren Tabak

 
 
 

When you come up against an idea that just isn't happening, is your thought just to push through until you get somewhere? Or is there ever a time when you get to something that's not working and you have to push it aside?

A

At this stage of the game, I'm probably too sensitive to resistance, so I'll just put it down. I don't think I try as hard as I used to, though I have worked on songs over a long period of time. There's a song on my new record that I wrote with Kim Richie. It's at least 10 years old. There was nothing about it that made it feel like it was one of the kind, and yet there was something about it that I felt was worth revisiting. It was a song about Lincoln's body doing the route from Springfield to DC and back to Springfield, and how people came out to the train tracks, bowing their heads and dressed in their finest. But the music was not really original. I just started kicking it around and felt like it really belongs on this album. Then I got excited about it. And that was enough. It's called "Paying My Respects to the Train."

Is the ritual of the writing process important to you? Is there an ideal time or place?

A

I look at a record like Let Freedom Ring, which I wrote during the last financial meltdown. We had done a fairly long and pretty grueling European tour. When I got home, my body clock was still turned around, so I was waking up at three in the morning and going down to my office at like four or five. As a result of that, I would write for four or five hours before one phone call or anything came in to distract me. I just remember being really hot. I remember everything falling into place as a creative burst. I generally would like to get going early before all the distractions of the day set in.

It’s hard to write for more than four hours at a time. After that, I’ll kick things around, print it out, change a comma, then print it out again.

Change a comma?

A

That's the expression that writers say. They'll change one comma then print it out again. You start looking for any small reward. I tend to mark things up and then reprint them. I write the date on the page. And I'll write the song in a red Sharpie. Those things just pile up as I revisit songs over time.

Is there a place or a room where you get your best writing done?

A

Yeah, it's sort of a rehearsal studio, but it's got natural light. It's very small place downtown. And there's a Ford Econoline bench that I took out of the van. So I sit on this Ford bench and that's where I find my mojo.

We all attach irrational ideas [to the process]. I play the same guitar. If I have a lucky spot, I'll return to it. I have a certain kind pen. I have all these irrational attachments that I believe make it possible. And I believe that if everybody had a guitar like mine, then I'd be pumping gas for sure.

The Econoline bench has no arms on it, so it's easy to play guitar. And I can also lay down on it.

 
photo credit: Sloan Kanter

photo credit: Sloan Kanter

Do you find that movement plays a strong role in generating ideas?

A

When you're moving, things kind of compress and it can be blissful, and that's a nice place to write. I wrote an entire album with a group called the Rubinoos. Their main songwriter is Tommy Dunbar, who is a real hero of mine. I would take Amtrak to his place, about a two hour journey. And it's just heaven. I’d start the journey unprepared, then by the time I got to Sacramento, I'd have five ideas that I want.

How often do you hear things or see things around you that make their way into your songs?

A

All the time, and musically too. Often I'll be sitting on some riff. I know it's not original, and I don't really care. Because inevitably we're going to take this ride together and by the time we get to where we're going, it's going to be unrecognized. The DNA of the original riff is there, but you have to have faith that the process is going to take it somewhere.

People say, Oh, that sounds a little like this, or it sounds a little like that. Don't worry about it. By the time we rotate the tires a couple times and change a few parts, it's going to be its own thing

Let’s talk about the new album. What was the easiest song on it to write?

A

I think "Best Shirt On." I co-wrote that with Kurt Lipschutz. As is the typical day for us, we were arguing about where to eat lunch, and that song just kind of emerged. There was a verse but no melody, and I'd been listening to a lot of Beach Boys. So I filled out the melody with [a sound] I thought would later be words. I was just scatting my way through it. But we had a couple of verses and, so I put it aside. And then when I demoed it, it really came alive. There was more song there than I thought.

What was the most difficult to write?

A

"Pay My Respects to the Train" had been through several iterations, and I'd even done a version on a record from 2008, I think. I spent many years playing with that Rubik's Cube and trying to get it to behave. It's pretty remarkable really.

Kurt and I wrote a song where I brought in the title "Womankind" that came from a conversation I was having about how much I admired Tom Petty's ability to write for women. He didn't have any sisters, but yet he came out of the gate with "American Girl." He really sees that through the eyes of the girl in the song. That's pretty remarkable. It says a lot about hm. It's like what David Mamet says: when it's your time to be on, be on. No more excuses. There's the microphone, you got the deal, show up with a song. The people who come out of the gate like that on their first record really are special.

So I came in with that title "Womankind," but we couldn't really get it. Then it turned into lines about manmade this and manmade that. It still became a song about women and God, like in an interchangeable way. But then it got very confused, and we just couldn't see eye to eye on it. So I went off by myself and finished it. Nobody was too excited about it, but because I had faith in the idea, it ended up being a song I'm proud of. And it's a song that I really like playing solo.

You mentioned you came in with a title. How often do songs start like that for you?

A

I had that title because I felt like it made a nice Post-it note, kind of a reminder that it would be great to write song in the wake of where we are right now. Men had a good run. I mean, there was a time when the world was like a Bon Jovi song: if you were strong enough to lift heavy boxes down at the docks, then you were the man. Well, that time has come and gone. They've got forklifts now. And women are probably safer forklift drivers. Women are better managers, they work well with others, and they're more educated at this point. So it's really the end of mankind as we know it. You look to you look to our problems in Washington, and that's part of it.

 
 
 
 

What challenges does starting with a title present?

A

When people write from a title, you can smell it coming because it’ll be the last line. And that line is gonna go here, here, and here. You can see that some songs are written backwards from the title, and I don't love it. Sometimes it works, but I don't lean on it.

When you do start with a title, how do you write so it doesn’t look like you started that way?

A

You just try not to leave so many bread crumbs that people see it coming a mile away and it takes the fun out of it for them. It's the same with those TV shows where I see everything coming a mile away; I'm not going to get surprised.

Last question. You mentioned revising earlier, so what kind of revising do you do?

A

It’s ridiculous. I’ve been told I’m “King of the Rewrites.” But I really want it to sing well. I play a lot of gigs, and there could be a line that's not really working for me. Syllabically it's not really grooving. It doesn't feel good in my mouth. The cadence of it breaks the pattern, and it may end up breaking the spell for the listener.

I just love the things that I pull out of the air. Those are the things I'm most proud of rather than the things that are laid down nice on paper. When you're doing the music and the melody and everything else at the same time and these subconscious things come out, it’s very rewarding. I had a blues song called "Automatic Blues" that I had written so many verses for. The end of every tag was going to be “automatic blues,” so I went through all these different situations where automation was giving me the blues.

I played it for a friend of mine. I said, "I got all these verses." And he said to me, "She walks like Bo Diddley and she don't need no crutch." And I realized at that point that I'd taken all the poetry out of it by being so determined for the song to make sense. When something ends up making too much sense, you've taken all the poetry out of it. You want to make sense, but you don't want to make too much sense. And that's always the struggle. So you just gotta remind yourself from time to time: She walks like Bo Diddley, and she don't need no crutch.

 
 
 
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