Interview 2011 | frank-lazarus

FRANK LAZARUS - THE NEW AMSTERDAM PRESS INTERVIEW

In the Summer of 2011, having just finished recording FOLLOWING THROUGH, his 14th album of original music Frank Lazarus sat down with The New Amsterdam Press to discuss his life, his music and his place in the world today. An edited version of the interview was published in the Summer, 2011 edition of the New Amsterdam Press, but it is printed in its entirety below.

I: First, thanks for sitting down with us.

FL: No problem, no problem.

I: So, this is your first interview, huh?

FL: Uh, I guess it is. (Laughs.) At least the first one that anyone’s gonna read. Be gentle.

I: Ok, so we’ll get right into the hard stuff. You’ve been playing and writing for just about two decades now, to some pretty impressive reviews, and yet you’ve hardly achieved any popularity. How does that sit with you?

FL: Wow. (Laughs.) Way to start to it off subtly. (Laughs.) To tell you the truth, it does bother me. More than a little. It’s not like I expect to be famous or anything, but it would be nice to have all the work validated. My wife’ll tell you – I spend way more time playing music than I should. No doubt I’ve lost money in my life playing music. But I still do it cuz I love it and because, I mean, what else am I gonna do to fill my time? Watch reality TV?

I: Is it just about exposure?

FL: No, of course not. I wouldn’t mind not selling records if people were buying better records instead. By all means, go out and buy Warren Haynes’ new album before you buy mine. But the pickens are pretty slim after that. I don’t see many artists doing much of anything today that catches my interest. But I feel like I have some interesting stuff on this record that people might wanna hear. And yet most won’t.

I: Tracy (Eisenberg, of the Possessions) once called you “Bay Ridge Berry Gordy.” Is that accurate?

FL: (Laughs.) Oh, yeah. That’s my dream. To be a huge fish in a tiny little pond. She was just referring to how I sort of took over the Bay Ridge scene for a few years there. Of course, Gordy had a mansion or three…I had a 1 ½ bedroom apartment near the water. Plus, what’s Bay Ridge, you know? Candy from a baby. (Laughs.)

I: So, why Following Through?

FL: Well, first, that’s a line from “Lovelight” which is on the album. The line goes “we swear forever, but the hardest part is actually following through,” and that was the title for a bit… “actually following through.” For brevity’s sake I dropped “actually” and there you go. I think it appealed to me because it’d been so long between since I last completed a project. I had a Possessions project fall through and conceived a solo record earlier in the year that I just sort of lost interest in, so Following Through became a battle cry in a way. A little “note to self.”

I: Why the delay in recording?

FL: It’s funny you ask because it seems like forever since I’ve recorded, but only 2 years separate this album and Dive Bars. Two years is a respectable amount of time for an artist to go between albums, you know? I was just on such a roll in ’07 and ’08 that it seems longer. What did I do, four albums in ’08?

I: Two.

FL: No, it was four, I think. I did two on my own, but I also did the Possessions album and an album with Kristina Fetkovich. On those, I wrote all the songs, played every instrument. So I still kinda consider them to be mine.

I: Where did all that music come from?

FL: Next question (laughs.) Well, in truth, it was a little mid-life crisis, really. Right around when I was getting married, I had a few freak out months where I didn’t know what I was doing. I was just flooded with all these emotions and questions and impulses, and those turned into songs. I mean, I’d hop on the train to work and write a full song, words and music, by the time I got to my job, you know? Two songs, even. All in my head, just by thinking. And feeling. It was just pouring out of me, and I was smart enough to write it all down. If you look at the stuff I did from ’06 through ’09, it’s all sad shit. All “what am I doing” crap that just come out with nice melodies.

I: “Crap.” “Shit.” Interesting descriptions. How do all those songs sound today?

FL: (Laughs.) It’s hard, you know, because I have come so far from where I was then that, in some ways, I can’t even remember what I was feeling. That’s one of my defense mechanisms. I detach myself from myself, so I can experience all this sad, grimy shit, then remove myself from it enough so I can write about it. But once I do that, I sort of conquer it. Or bury it at least.

I: How was the songwriting process different this time?

FL: It wasn’t. I still write the same way. I just write a little less. But that’s not a bad thing. I wrote – no lie – 300 or so songs back then, and only…what, 50 of them were any good? Now I’m much more selective about it all. “Love is Learning” is something I started a full year before I recorded it. I let it grow and breathe and become what it was meant to be, whereas in the past I would have rushed it.

I: So, how did this record come together?

FL: Well, it started with my hands. My brother and I… mostly my brother… built a recording studio on my property. We did everything. We built it, ground up. Took us about 8 months. When we were done, I thought I’d give it a spin. I started out doing simple solo piano pieces, just piano and voice. I just wanted to test things out, you know? “Love is Learning” really lent itself to that sort of accompaniment, so I went that way for a while. “An End,” “Late Summer,” “Doomsday Baby,” all those.

I: Why the piano?

FL: I think it’s that guitar just comes so easy to me, whereas piano takes a lot of effort and focus. I kind of liked that feeling of being on the edge with these songs – not being able to rely on a lick that’s stored in my muscle memory. I had to really get up for these songs because they’d drown me if I didn’t. I also liked the sound we hit on – piano, bass and drums as the center lent itself to a lot of jazz and soul grooves that worked over this set of songs. And I dunno, maybe my ears just needed a break from the twang and scream of a guitar. But there’s some guitar on this record, for sure. “Sunburn.” “Lovelight.” I stretched about a bit where it was appropriate.

I: How did the album morph from a solo piano thing to a full band thing?

FL: I wrote a song called “Dead Air” which I originally thought was going to be another piano thing. When I recorded it, though, it asked for drums. It asked for guitar and bass and all. Then I started thinking about what else might need more instrumentation and pretty much all of it did. So I did.

I: Then the flood gates opened.

FL: Yeah, the flood gates. A lot of songs suddenly became fair game. “Like You’re Watching Me” and “Vision in a Downpour” and “Lovelight” and all those songs were in the mix. And that’s when and how Following Through happened.

I: And these were mostly new songs?

FL: Some were older. Some were new. “Sunburn” was really old. 1997 I think. The main melody in “Like You’re Watching Me” is from ‘02 or ‘03 or something, when I was playing with a band called The Miserable Thieves. A few were written in ’09, ’10, when I took a break from recording and playing. A lot were written after I’d started recording, though. That always happens. You write the best stuff when you’re recording because your pores are opened and things just flow. I hadn’t yet written “They Won’t Let You” and “Right Time for Everything.” They came towards the very end.

I: What songs stand out to you on this record?

FL: Honestly, for the first time, they all do. I spent 7 months recording this album, and about 30 songs at one time or another were in the running. To whittle it down to 13 really meant that only the best made it. I’m not trying to cop out… honest (laughs.)

I: Some of the songs are a real departure from your usual style.

FL: Like what?

I: Well, “Right Time for Everything,” right?

FL: I guess. I was thinking about Bruce Hornsby when I wrote that song, honestly. It was centered around that piano riff, and I had “That’s the Way it is” in my head in terms of the feel. But then that vocal section was sort of a “Black Water” Doobies thing. That whole breakdown to me was very 70’s, which, of course, I love.

I: You’ve always been a big fan of that decade. What is it about the 70’s that appeals to you so much?

FL: Hmm. It probably comes from the fact that I was born in 1978, and my earliest aural memories were of that time period. I get this strange sadness – almost a homesick feeling – when I hear things like 70’s-era Four Seasons or the Bee Gees. Very nostalgic, which wouldn’t make sense since I was barely a year old when the Bee Gees ruled the world. It’s not even like I was raised to love that stuff. My parents are hippies and we never played any pop or disco in the house. It was all Allmans and Clapton and all that. It’s your first memories that stick the deepest.

I: Talk about “Love Jam.”

FL: Well, “Love Jam” was just a jam, really, until Rob & I pulled some pieces together and turned it into a song. I had written this tune called “Let My Love In” and we were working on it, you know, for the album. It’s this pretty little thing, sort of a Bee Gees-styled ballad. But it wasn’t finished. It needed something funky or rhythmic to balance it out, so I wrote this very disco set of changes that ended up being more interesting than the rest of the song. So we just jammed on it for a bit, just to get a feel for it. I came up with the melody and the changes and all, as we jammed. It was very free and really just for fun; at that point, we weren’t thinking of it as a song. It was just a jam. Well, turns out that we all liked it better than the ballad, so we ditched the ballad and worked on the instrumental, which we just called “Love Jam” because it was originally just a jam based on that song, “Let My Love In.” We tried to nail down a proper version a few times but it didn’t have the feel of the original, so we just kept the original and then spliced it together with this change part we worked on later. It really worked out nicely.

I: It’s the most unique thing on the record, but it doesn’t feel out of place.

FL: Yeah, it’s something I’ve always wanted to do and definitely will do more of in the future. Dickey Betts is probably my main man in terms of guitar playing, and nobody on this planet is better than him at writing instrumentals. They’re part rock, part jazz, and they’re all amazing. I mean, “Jessica,” “High Falls,” “…Liz Reed,” all those. Brilliant. Those totally inspired me growing up, so a soon as “Love Jam” sort of went that way, I jumped all over the chance to turn it into Dickey thing. I love it.

I: Matt Garrison really shines on that one.

FL: He shines on whatever he does, man. The dude is really amazing. I knew he was good, but he really aced this material. In most cases, the first time he heard the songs was when he was cutting his parts. He’d record two takes and that was it. Both would be amazing. He just came in and kicked ass. Unreal. A wonderful player.

I: Ok, let’s go song by song.

FL: (Laughs.) Ok. What do you want to do know?

I: Just whatever stands out about that particular song. The recording of it, how and when you wrote it, whatever.

FL: Ok, shoot.

I: “Vision in a Downpour.”

FL: I wrote that in my den at home. When we first moved in the new house, when all our shit was all over the place, we had the keyboard right by the window, facing out to the street. I wrote “Love is Learning” in the same spot. I was playing and just looking out and it happened to be raining, which is where the “downpour” stuff came from. I was playing this soulful little keys thing and started singing. “Vision in a Downpour” was the title from the second I wrote it, and I filled the lyrics in later on. I was trying to write one of those great old mid-tempo soul duets. Playful, funky. I was listening to a lot of Tower of Power when I wrote that song, which shines a little. I wanted horns in there at first but then had a change of heart when I heard the tight little mix we had. It was more rough, and I liked that.

I: “Lovelight.”

FL: Wrote that one right before the baby was born. February of ’09. I took a “sick” day from work and was just messing around the keyboard. I played that little (sings) deh-deh-deh-deh-deeehh riff and worked at it until I had the song. That same day, I wrote a song called “No Good at All” which I really like and will get around to recording someday.

I: “They Won’t Let You.”

FL: Uh, I wrote that one right at the very end. I was listening to Dr. John’s piano playing on Gregg Allman’s new album, which is amazing. So I was in sort a New Orleans piano blues mood. ‘Course, I can’t play that shit worth a lick, so I just played this simple piano riff and started singing some blues. It came out mildly Cajun (laughs). I was really just singing about how bad it sucks to not be rich. It’s really a song about control. “They” don’t let you do shit, as we can all attest.

I: “Amends.”

FL: That’s just me going for a 70’s R&B thing. That progression – the turnaround during chorus, the D-C-Bm – is something I’ve used so many times. I love it. So smooth. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with it, though. It was funky, but not funk. A little reggae, but not fully. When Matt came in to record “Love Jam” and a few others, I thought I’d give him a crack at it and he just nailed it. It was that perfect sort of King Curtis meets Fathead Newman jazz/R&B thing which allowed the song to be all that at once. He really aced it. I also love the guitar/organ syncopation we got going on there. It added some nice texture.

I: “Where You Used to Be.”

FL: Probably the best song on the record. It’s so…it’s hard to describe, really, because it’s this slow, melodic gospel tinged thing, but that dissonant riff we got on there just takes it somewhere else. It teeters on the brink because it’s straight soul but then this atonal melody comes in and it’s just jarring. And then again Matt nailed his parts. And Erica, she filled that song up so well. That’s her and Tracy at the end, each of their voices doubled. Gorgeous, powerful stuff.

I: It’s an intense lyric, too. Is it about anybody in particular?

FL: Yes and no. It’s always about somebody, but then you pepper it with other things. I’ve gotten better at that as I’ve gotten older, not limiting songs to one thing.

I: Last one: “Been Away Too Long.”

FL: That one came out of nowhere. I had literally forgotten about that song for years. I wrote it in Greece back in 2008 and wanted it to be on Ocean Blue. The band wasn’t too into it for whatever reason, so I shelved it and just assumed it was a dead thing. Then I was driving to Doody’s one day and it just jumped back into my head out of nowhere. I wasn’t even sure for a second what I was singing, but there it was. I went home and played with it a bit. I didn’t have a change for it, so I wrote the bridge and got the backing tracks all done that night.

I: It seems like a pretty obvious metaphor.

FL: Oh, yeah. Highly. It’s really an “Ok, I’ve fucked up enough” kinda song. The old adage “If you love something, let it go”… this song is the other side. I was let go, and now I wanted back. The change really hammers it home because the whole point is, you know, to go away and find something. But everything I found out there was bullshit. “I rode that train to the end of the line; it felt so real in my mind, but I’ve been away too long.” The only thing that was real was what I left behind, so I went back.

I: Where did that talking blues come from?

FL: (Laughs.) Yeah, I dunno. It was just there; it felt right, like it needed to be there to set the stage. For the song, but also the album.

I: I love that line: “I’ve bartered with beggars over stolen pearls and dined with exiled kings.”

FL: See, there’s proof that songwriting is something that comes more from without than within. I have no idea where that came from, but when I started talking, there it was.

I: What does it mean?

FL: If I had to intellectualize it, it’s just about how much dirt I’ve packed into my otherwise clean life. (Laughs.) Whatever that means.

I: What was the recording process like for Following Through?

FL: (Laughs.) It was rough, man. It took me a long time. I started in November and went all the way through ‘til June, so you’re talking seven months on one thing. That’s not what I’m used to.

I: Did you struggle with staying focused on the same batch of songs for so long?

FL: Yeah, I started to get a little stir crazy with it. It’s also hard when, in essence, you’re the only one with any sort of say. I had lots of help, particularly from Rob Carpenter, but I was the one who wrote the stuff and produced the stuff and played most of the instruments. So you find yourself listening to the same music over and over again and you think “Man, this? Still?”

I: Why do you think people should listen to this record?

FL: Whoa, loaded question (laughs). Who says I do at all?

I: Well, do you?

FL: Yeah, I guess I do.

I: Why?

FL: It’s music, you know? It’s good music, but it’s also actual music. I’m not naïve enough to go around yelling about how much better everything used to be; I understand that change is a natural part of the universe. I’m sure there were older generation people going around blasting the music of John Coltrane and Leiber and Stoller and all those guys, because that’s what people do when their time has passed. They bitch and moan (laughs). But there is definitely something to worry about today in terms of the quality of the art we are creating. There are things happening around and outside of and between music that are affecting the music itself. The cell phone generation is desensitized to so much that music doesn’t have to be much of anything anymore to be accepted. That’s the long way of me saying that I appreciate this album of mine because it’s musical; because it was created in a vacuum, so to speak, where I didn’t care about who heard it.

I: But you’ve always done that.

FL: And I always will. My brother is always on me about writing, you know, pop songs; he thinks I can make a million bucks if I just turned on Z-100 for a few hours and mimicked what I heard. See, but that’s the problem. We’re all mimicking a sound. I guess it’s always happened that way, but it’s dangerous now because what people are mimicking isn’t art… it’s commercialism. Product placement and mastering compression and all these various influences have turned what was, in the 50’s, 60’s. all the way through the 90’s, a viable art form into just another passing thing. Another shit. Look at…what’s her name? Rebecca Black? That “Friday” song? That’s a song that’s made her a lot of money because it’s bad. It’s a pop song that made it because it’s not good; because it’s so non-musical that people just have to hear it. It’s a train wreck and we accepted it into our culture and made her a name. And what did it influence? More people to be bad. Less people to be good. Same with Guitar Hero which, I’ll admit, is kinda fun. I’ve played it a few times and, yeah, I get the point. It’s fun. But kids are playing that and not playing guitar anymore. This video game has substituted actual expression. Same as the Rebecca Black thing – non-music being accepted into musical circles, replacing music, really.

I: Are there any “new” artists that you like?

FL: Yeah, a few. I think Chrisette Michele is wonderful. Her voice is just wonderful. So strong and emotive. I also like Adele. A little. I dunno. It’s a little cheesy for me, at 32, to get off on listening to acts that are younger than I am. I know that probably sounds a little cranky of me. It’s the same with sports. I won’t wear a jersey for any player that’s younger than I am. One of my little quirks. I’ll never opt to put a new artist on over any of my older influences, though. I am quite content in my little circle (laughs).

I: You mentioned Dickey Betts before. Who are some of your other big influences?

FL: Yeah, growing up, it was always the Allman Brothers. My first favorite band was Guns and Roses but the Allmans were a constant in my house. They were always on, or my dad was always singing them in the car. When I started playing guitar, I gravitated towards them because it was so rich in terms of what you could do as a guitarist. Duane was my favorite early on, but I really got into Dickey as I got older and it’s safe to say that he’s my biggest influence in terms of my guitar playing. As for singing, again…Gregg Allman. I love so many. James Taylor is a massive influence – he’s the one musician whose death will probably move me to tears when it happens. I have a very deep love for that man and of course his music. He’s wonderful. Uh, Roger Miller is another. Frankie Valli. Stevie Wonder. A little all over the map, I know, but it’s not a certain style or genre that I love. It’s sentiment. Sincerity. All of those guys are real, honest players and singers. No barriers. Neil Young, same thing. CSN. Honesty and, you know, sincerity. I get off on that.

I: Where did the soul of this record come from? I mean specifically the soul and gospel feel of almost all the songs.

FL: I think it was always there, really. It just came out way more this time. Some of it is that I am way more confident in my voice now than ever. No doubt. I would never have tried something like “Where You Used to Be” a few years ago. The voice is just front and center, you know? But I think the music is still very me.

I: But this is a lot different sounding than, say, Dive Bars or Exhaust.

FL: Oh, yeah. A lot of what I did starting in ’07 going all the way through ’09 was centered on country music because, for one, it’s great stuff. I love old country – Roger Miller, Waylon Jennings, all that. It’s amazing stuff. But I also was writing a lot of country because I was really into a direct lyrical phase where I just wanted to tell people I was sad in the fewest amount of words possible (laughs). Country is great for that, you know? It’s witty – it makes you cram a lot of emotion into a few verses and a chorus.

I: Where do you stand now in the Brooklyn Country scene?

FL: I think, in a lot of ways, I’ve been pushed aside. Not maliciously, I don’t think. It’s just not a scene I can sink my teeth into, you know? But that’s because I don’t really fit into any scene. I am the scene (laughs). Plus, I dunno…it’s a little confining. I love country music, like I said, for the songs, and especially the song writing. It’s not all that exciting to play, specifically when all people want to hear are the same few songs. That shit-kickin’ drum/bass thing. Fun to hear but not too fun to play, you know? I also really take exception to all these people living in Williamsburg, all these little hipsters singing about cattle drives and outlaw country. It was a little false. But I still have some friends in that scene. Carin Gorrell is a dear friend of mine…I love “big mama.” Glenn Spivak is another, and all those guys – Scott and Matt – with the Dirt Floor Revue. They’re all good people and great musicians. But they’re also all not strictly country. Glenn is a huge fan of old R&B, and The Dirt Floor guys are really just a garage rock band with country leanings. Great stuff. Love that band. I was just a little too stuck in the mud there, so to speak, and wanted to move along.

I: What’s next?

FL: Well, Rob & I were talking about this crazy concept album which is really out there but pretty amazing. I can’t get into details because, you know, then I’d have to kill you. But let’s just say that it’s based around the afterlife and will walk us through all the musical styles that we love.

I: It seems like Rob is more involved in your musical life than he has been in years.

FL: Yeah, that was one of the great ancillary benefits of this record: my renewed friendship with Rob. We’ve always traveled our own paths and sometimes those paths ran convergent, you know? We’ve gone years without speaking, not because of any bad blood or anything. I’d just be doing country in Brooklyn and he’d be doing punk in the Village. Something like that. It was just our lives that kept us sorta distant, but every time we’d get back together, we’d pick up where we left off. Now I think we’re at very similar places. I mean, I have a kid and he’s not there yet, but we’re both of the same mind, musically, which allows us to be friends more than we have been in years. It’s nice.

I: Do you still view your solo work as something that exists outside of your main thing?

FL: Well, what’s my main thing? (Laughs.) That’s the question. I’ve always sort of bounced around, and never had a main thing. When the Possessions was going strong, that was about as close to a main thing as I ever had, but even that wasn’t a main thing in the traditional sense. That’s my problem, with music and with life – I have no staying power. I can’t focus for too long on anything.

I: What happened with the Possessions?

FL: Lots of things. The main thing was that I was physically removed from the band, cuz I’d just moved out to Staten Island. The distance created a metaphorical distance, and distance is killer for a band. Plus, I was probably subconsciously ready to move on, just ready for a new sound. That sounds odd in a way because the songs were all written and performed by me, at least on the records. So the sound was me. Well, me and Tracy. Sometimes, I just need to end something clean before I can start something fresh. It’s like I need the headspace to get something else going.

I: Did you initiate the breakup?

FL: Eh, sorta. But it was in the air before it happened. It was just time, you know? All things end, right?

I: How’s your relationship with Tracy now?

FL: Oh, it’s good. We didn’t fall out or anything. We probably went through the same set of changes that I go through with all my friends. We meet, we get real close real quick, and then it teeters out. There’s no bad blood or anything, but the closeness that spurred it all on was fading, and that’s squarely on me. That’s how I am with all people. Short bursts of intense feeling and creativity, then dying embers. But she’s still a great singer. She sang some backing vocals on this album, in fact.

I: What about Erica Vasaturo? She sort of came out of nowhere.

FL: Exactly. As of mid-March, I didn’t even know who she was. A few weeks later, she was all over this album. The strength of her voice really gave this record an extra push. She’s really wonderful. I’m sure we’ll be working together going forward. Rob wants at her. (Laughs.) He wants to produce her voice in the worst way.

I: So now that you did this solo thing, do you think you’ll be laying it down for a while?

FL: I think the opposite, actually. It took a little long, but this album came together so nicely that I honestly can’t wait to do it again. I think, when I finish the instrumental thing with Rob, I’m going to do strictly solo shit for a while. I really get off on it, especially now because I’m probably a little too busy for a band. I like being the only cook in the kitchen, if you follow. I defer to Rob a lot and I really do enjoy collaborating, but there’s a great feeling that goes along with writing, performing and releasing an album all on your own. The next one, I think I’m going to play every instrument. I just want to try it out. Stephen Stills and McCartney have done it, but also guys like Lewis Taylor who I just love. God, there’s another “new” artist that I dig. The Lost Album has definitely inspired me.

I: Is this soul sound a new direction for you?

FL: I don’t think so. I think it’s just another color I can add to my palate, you know? I still love everything I used to love, and still write it. Rob & I are planning on recording an instrumental fusion album after this one is released. We’ll be recording with Erica Vasaturo. I have some acoustic, folksy stuff I wanna get down. I’m the same old me – just… expanded.

I: Do you anticipate this album making any sort of dent in the scene today.

FL: (Laughs.) No, and I don't care…