AN INTERVIEW WITH FOLK HERO ELLIS PAUL

On Saturday, November 7th, nationally renowned singer-songwriter Ellis Paul is performing with Peter Mulvey at 6 On the Square, 6 Lafayette Park in Oxford, NY. Ellis was kind enough to answer some of my questions about artistic growth, travel, and the difference between expressive songwriting vs. empathetic songwriting. *** TCC: I sense that you like to see how you can take your gift of making music and wind it through these other channels of life. For instance, you have written books for kids, and visited classrooms to play your songs for them, cuing the kids to sing a long. What is the impression that you want to leave on children with your work? Is it about sharing music, cultural messages, both?

EP: I want my work to inform and inspire kids and force some communication with adults, teachers, and parents about the subject matter. "The Million Chameleon March" is about social activism. It's a funny picture, these chameleons marching on Washington, changing color like a flag to show unity, but the underlying message of activism has to be talked about with adults. It's supposed to be fun, but also important.

TCC: Throughout your oeuvre, there is a recognizable sound to you- a patented you sound, so to speak- which, I think, is owed in great part to the unique sound of your voice and a recurring tone in your songs. Having made so many albums, do you feel like your music is an institution? Is it difficult, as an artist, to want to create new material, with so much lauded material behind you?

EP: I'm still learning. I'm invested in growing and evolving; I love doing this art form. A lot. I don't know that my fans need another Ellis Paul album. But Ellis Paul does. I'm guessing he needs twenty more, and they will keep showing growth, at least to him.

TCC: In your music, there is a very down-to-earth and at-home-feeling sound. It can feel very relaxed, personal, and in a way, humble. Who are you writing for when you’re writing lyrics? Do you imagine yourself writing to a group of close friends? To the legacy of American music? To a national audience?

EP: The songs can sound as though they were written to be performed in the intimate space of a cozy living room, but of course they’re being listened to by a wide demographic. I think the more conversational they feel, the more real they sound to people. The language needs to be informal, like a friend or loved one is speaking. I have to convince myself first, and that's hard because I'm the one writing. But if I believe me, it's a good start.

TCC: When people talk about your career, mention of the Boston music scene- which essentially can sound like a lot of names (Shawn Colvin, Dar Williams, Bill Morrissey)- often shortly follows. I think there’s a certain mythological draw to music scenes for people- it can almost seem like the Greek gods on Mount Olympus or something like that. What I want to know is, what was the vibe then, in that scene? Like, what was everybody doing, how did everybody live and keep busy? And on that note, if there is one, what is your scene now?

EP: I'd have to say that time period was magical in Boston. You had all these very bright, educated, and freshly out of college people picking up guitars and writing literate, creative, left-of-center songs. Traveling to the same haunts. Trying to outshine each other. Learn from each other. There was half a dozen radio stations playing us on a daily basis. Clubs on every corner. It's different now. The folk scene is more rooted in Americana than the poetic singer-songwriter. Bands are getting more attention than solo acts. The stations are fewer. Clubs have come and gone, a few remain. We all lived in apartments and hit the good open mics, tried to get openers for national acts. Tried to get the masters, like Bill Morrissey, to share stories and insights. It's still the romantic heyday of my career. I felt like if I conquered Boston, I could do it anywhere. So much talent was there. There are other scenes now: Nashville, though it's commercial, Brooklyn, Austin. But Boston had a unique period. Like a Seattle or an Athens. Where the songwriter reigned supreme.

TCC: Have you noticed that you write differently- or different types of songs- when you’re on the road vs. at home or in the studio? What’s the difference?

EP: Songs travel with me as they are written, so they get to experience cars, planes, motels, homes. I write them over weeks. They need passports and luggage. Right now they ride the train of my life. Many are written on drives. I record the guitar parts on my phone, play them through my speakers, and literally sing to them as I'm driving. I can't wait for the self-driving cars to come into my life.

TCC: How did you end up befriending the Farrelley brothers? Me, Myself, and Irene- strangely enough- is a childhood favorite of mine.

EP: My manager became friends first- they met on Martha's Vineyard back in the eighties, probably over a bar or a hashish pipe. They are generous people. Later on, they saw him working with this young songwriter, loved what I was doing, and included me where they could in their films. There's a good life lesson here, in that friends will kick you forward, if they have the right boot on. They've kicked me a few times forward, and hard. I'm eternally grateful.

TCC: Being a singer-songwriter in the storytelling tradition, you tell stories from your experiences. But you also tell the stories of others. I imagine this must be something like expression vs. empathy? Does that feel like two different games, so to speak, writing from your life vs. writing for the life of someone else?

EP: These are very sophisticated questions. Are you at a hashish bar? Seriously, Thank you for being insightful. You put that question perfectly: empathy vs. expression. It's like when Van Gogh was painting a field of corn and crows. He was also painting his own mania without knowing it. Black crows on bright yellow fields. Twisted sky. An artist can't avoid his own DNA showing up in whatever he's creating. I'm in every character, like John Prine was in the old woman in "Angel from Montgomery." Empathy is important in character songs because it allows you to walk in their shoes. You just have to convince people it's not you, it's an old woman. At this point, I've emptied the well of many of my own stories. I like writing other people's tales.

TCC: What do you like about reality the most? It could be anything, from a physical sensation you sometimes feel to a concept you enjoy thinking about- or a relationship with a person, a relationship with a spirituality. Anything!

EP: The pipe is now empty! You smoked it all! You're asking existential questions! I love beauty. Sensory beauty. The sight of this fall day (I added an hour on to a long drive of five hours to look at trees and farmland and mountains today), smell of good food, pretty voice, kids' laughter. We are lucky to be alive. What are the chances that our species could be here and have all this planet all to ourselves? And somehow we think there's a need to fight over it. It's a crazy old world. *** Don't miss Ellis Paul and Peter Mulvey on the 7th. Doors open at 6:30pm. Minds open to the aural magic shortly following.