By Daniel Colussi
In conversation Ryley Walker is low-key, friendly, and disarming. He speaks thoughtfully but off the cuff about himself, his music, and his place in the world. This causal demeanor betrays his status as pre-eminent shredder on the acoustic guitar. Despite his youth, Walker plays in a manner far beyond his years. He sounds like some undiscovered folk-guitar great from early 70s, a time almost two decades before he was born.
In particular, Walker’s playing and song-craft recalls the era of wild experimentation and exploration, when traditional British folk ballads rubbed shoulder to shoulder with electronic psychedelia and North African music. I spoke with Walker not only about the influences of 1970s folk guitar music, but also that of his native Chicago, as well as his years coming up through the world of 2000s underground/outsider noise rock scene. Walker appears in Winnipeg this weekend as part of the Winnipeg Folk Fest, where he’ll play songs from his recently released sophomore album Golden Sings That Have Been Sung.
Stylus: The new record sounds gorgeous.
Ryley Walker: Thanks a lot.
Stylus: Maybe you can give me a run-through of how you recorded this new record. You worked one day on, one day off? What was the approach?
RW: Well I think when the last record came out we just wanted to hit the road and play new stuff because we were so sick of that record already [laughs]. Not that we didn’t like it, we were just excited to move onto the next thing, you know. So all last year on tour we worked on new music constantly. And we played a shitload of shows last year, about two-hundred and fifty or something crazy like that, nobody should ever do unless they want to lose their minds, but we wanted to lose our minds so we were fortunate in that respect. And then, come December, we recorded a record over Christmas and then pressed it onto a compact disc and sent it out to the world and now we’re talking. I always write on the road, and we would be playing and jamming and I’d say, Oh here’s a new idea, and we’d go onstage and just do it, like crazy. And sometimes it wouldn’t work at all, we’d fall fall flat on our face and just bomb. But when it worked, it really worked and it was fun. So there’s I guess a risk involved with it.
Stylus: Something I’ve gathered from you is that your writing process comes out of a lot of jamming, working ideas out that way. I guess I wonder how you get a sense that a song is finished – or is a song never really finished? How do you make that judgement?
RW: I guess a song is never really finished. I mean live we jam and we try to extend and make it as crazy as we can in the live context, which is fun. But in a recorded sense it’s pretty calculated. Every note is there. Its kind of like the record is the seedling and the gig is a tree that bears fruit, you know? [laughs]. And so in that sense it never ends, but when it’s recorded it’s all pretty calculated.
Stylus: Is one more fulfilling than the other? Is recording secondary to just playing out live? Does recording kind of stress you out?
RW: Recording is definitely stressful. I’m lucky enough to work with some people in the band who are super confidant and help me a lot. But I guess I prefer live. It’s just so fun to get out there and play the tunes. I want to make great records but playing live is a real joy. It’s so fun to do.
Stylus: I understand that Primrose Green was a lot of first takes, recorded really quickly. Is that true of the new record, or is this one a bit more painstaking? Were you able to get the same energy of first or second takes?
RW: Oh man these were a lot of takes. Because the other records, you know, I just feel the first take thing is like an aesthetic thing, like, this is the first take man isn’t this crazy? But there’s also things like economics, where you have like zero money to make a record and so we had to make those records quick. So this time it’s not like we got a bunch more money, that’s not the case, but we spent more time like ten days in a row over Christmas. So we had a lot more time to sit back and let things happen naturally. Let things grow, let things change. So that was really nice, to take a lot more time and be a lot more calculated with everything.
Stylus: Was the writing process different? What sort of different vibes or themes or guitar tunings or lyrical ideas did you bring into this new album? Were there specific ideas that you wanted to bring into this album?
RW: Yeah absolutely. I think that this represents something much much newer, much more personal, much better. It is more personal towards my own voice. I didn’t want a pastiche or homage to the past. I want to make music that’s now and definitely from my own perspective. And I’m really happy that that worked out, for me personally. And it’s a real joy to make lyrics from my own life about things that matter to me.
Stylus: On a related note, I know that you’re a real fan and student of a lot of late 60s proggy folky jazz. What do you think about the spirit of that time – when people were making very trippy and avant garde albums that were also very personal. Records that consciously blended and borrowed from blues, folk, world music, versus modern records that can seem so much more confined. Is this something that you think about? Is this there a different mental space nowadays?
RW: Yeah absolutely. That’s in combination with sort of far out retro music – folk and jazz and all that. Which is important to me and I think that being from Chicago is part of that too. It’s kind of a melting pot of music here that comes from the East Coast and from the West Coast, from the South. So it’s gonna have this weird line between rock and roll and folk and jazz and blues and world music. And the band, too, we get different types of sounds. Rather than just jam in the rock and roll style. There are so many possibilities and I always want to keep that going for sure.
Stylus: I’ve read about a time in your life when you played noise/free noise type music. And I wonder, does the spirit of that culture – basement shows, experimentation, confrontational music which basically exists outside the mainstream music industry culture – does that scene still bear any influence on you? Do you feel like you draw something from that? Or is that just the past?
RW: Well I think that it definitely taught me how to work. And that spirit is still within in me, I still love that music. And that was how I got started touring, playing shows like that. It’s how I learned to be broke on the road, how to sleep on couches. I learned how to work really hard. And you come to have an ethos in yourself to stay really busy. And that’s how I met a lot of my friends, my peers, and a lot of them I still hang out with to this day. And that was a really important start for me. I discovered so much great music too, and you’d be at a house with five different people and there’d be bands that would just blow my mind away. Sometimes I find it funny with bands who come here, some indie rock, who say We still have our DIY roots, but they make twenty-fucking-grand a night. But you know, that was a really happy period for me, I’m nostalgic for it these days, because it was just so fun.. You know you could just put a bunch of drugs in your system and drink a bunch of beer and play a gig.
Stylus: So like nowadays, touring as opening up for a larger band like Cloud Nothings or Iron And Wine or Destroyer, as you’ve done, what is it like to play for an audience that way versus playing for an audience in a basement?
RW: Well I mean the basement shows were really fun, to have that anonymous/outsider thing. Now, especially opening for Destroyer, they have a huge audience because they’re pretty big, people are paying money to see them. I guess I don’t get as trashed before the shows anymore, that’s the big difference. But it’s really fun. People come to basement shows to have an experience, but people also come to nice venues for the same reason. They pay 20 dollars a ticket or whatever. But I guess the context is a bit different. It’s a bit more pro, it’s not as ad-hoc or as free spirited. But it’s great to have the change to play all these beautiful venues and meet all kinds of nice people. And I really like having both contexts, they’re both great.
Stylus: So in light of the fact that improvising is important to you, what makes a good show for you? What makes a fulfilling show? What makes a disaster show?
RW: I mean there’s so many things that can go into that. One thing is like first thing in the morning do you feel like shit, are you rested? Are you hungover? Is the drive short and easy to get there? Sometimes you just tell when you get to the venue that the vibe is good, the soundcheck is good, the dinner is good. You have some nice wine beforehand or something. But then you can just tell when you’re playing on stage that there’s a certain energy within the band. You can look at everyone and everyone is smiling and having fun If everybody onstage is smiling then that makes it a great show. When we’re all getting along and having a great time then that makes the best show. And the audience can see that too, they can tell if the band enjoys being there. And so many things can affect. If I look over when we’re doing a jam part and everyone’s smiling and having fun then that’s a great show. Everyone’s enjoying themselves and enjoying the music. If everyone’s having fun then that’s a good way. That’s a simple way to put it.
Stylus: What’s you’re Folk Fest set going to be like – are you gonna be solo? Play new stuff?
RW: I’m playing with a bassist, as a duo with my friend. And I think the majority of the gigs will be new music. We might put a couple of hits in there if people want it. But otherwise it’s going to be different, we’re going to jam on it and it’s going to sound great.