Saturday, August 12, 2023

St. Vincent - Your Lips Are Red


 #St. Vincent #art rock #alternative/indie rock #electronic #singer-songwriter #avant-rock #pop rock #ex-Polyphonic Spree

St. Vincent was born Annie Erin Clark on September 28, 1982 in Tulsa, Oklahoma and spent most of her childhood in Dallas, Texas. She began playing guitar at the age of 12, and picked up some valuable lessons on the life of a touring musician as a teenager when she joined her uncle Tuck Andress on the road with his popular jazz duo Tuck & Patti. After graduating from high school in 2001, she studied at the prestigious Berklee School of Music, and recorded a self-released, three-song EP with fellow students in 2003, Ratsliveonnoevilstar. In 2004, Clark left Berklee and joined the extra-large Baroque pop group the Polyphonic Spree as a guitarist and a singer; she toured with the band, and appeared on the sessions for their 2007 album The Fragile Army. Also in 2004, Clark performed with Glenn Branca's 100 Guitar Orchestra for a recording of one of his avant-garde symphonies. In 2006, she left the Polyphonic Spree and joined the backing band of like-minded pop composer Sufjan Stevens. She recorded a three-song EP to sell at her shows with Stevens, on which she adopted the name St. Vincent (inspired by the New York hospital where poet Dylan Thomas died as well as her great-grandmother's middle name). During this time, she also recorded her debut album with musicians including Polyphonic Spree members Louis Schwadron and Brian Teasley and keyboardist Mike Carson, a frequent collaborator with David Bowie. Arriving in July 2007 on Beggars Banquet, Marry Me won critical acclaim, and in 2008 Clark won the PLUG Independent Music Award for Female Artist of the Year.  From: https://www.allmusic.com/artist/st-vincent-mn0000574035/biography

One of the first things you wanted to learn to play on the guitar was Jethro Tull’s Aqualung – where did that come from?

I think that was my dad’s CD. I saw Jethro Tull three times. Tull – three times! My first concert was Steely Dan. I was never cool. But a lot of that – Crosby, Stills, Nash And Young, Neil Young, The Doors, Zeppelin, Steely Dan, The Crusaders, Herbie Hancock, Traffic – all that stuff would have been my dad’s influence, I guess. How many times have you seen Tull, hmm?

Were they not a bit alarming for a child?

If I’m honest, I don’t love the flute – it ranks as one of my least favourite instruments. I didn’t know that at the time. I didn’t understand the novelty of just how brave he [Ian Anderson] was to bring the flute into prog rock. When you’re going back and raiding the boomer record collection you don’t have the same concepts as they do. “Oh, so-and-so was just a so-and-so rip off, these people are corny” – it’s all just exploration for you. It’s nice with virgin ears.

You’ve said there’s a Stevie Wonder influence on Daddy’s Home – was that from your father too?

I knew the sort of young Stevie Wonder era but actually it was right after 9/11 – which was my first or second day at college – and my friend was like, “Just go deep on Innervisions.” And I was like, “Woah, OK.” So it was music that helped me deal with the depth of what was going on. That was when I really got into Innervisions, Talking Book, Songs In The Key Of Life, that particular era of Stevie Wonder that was super-heavy.

How about Sly Stone?

I knew the hits growing up and then dug in around the same time and went back and revisited it recently. Checked out the Long Beach sound and bands like War. Super groove-based but with other influences whether Latin or, like, wiggly stuff. No straight lines. No right angles at all. Groove and feel are like a house of cards. It’s like this elusive magic trick.

You were into theatre at high school – is that where you learned to become a performer?

It was something that really scared me but I got such a thrill out of it. Let me make a distinction: I wasn’t into musical theatre. I was, like, reading Ibsen. I wasn’t trying to be the lead in Hello, Dolly! Musical theatre, I didn’t understand – I was like, “Why would you break into song right now?” I loved David Mamet.

What were your signature roles?

I had a progressive theatre teacher who changed one of the roles in Our Town to a female role so I could have a part. I think I had about four lines and most of it was to look forlorn, which wasn’t that hard as a teen. And then I was Helen Keller’s mother in The Miracle Worker.

You went on to study at Berklee College Of Music but did you ever play in a guitar-bass-drums school band?

I did a bit. I played in bands in high school and we’d do Jewel covers and such. Then I begrudgingly played in a jam band in high school. And then in college I played in a noise band that was very Polvo, all those Sonic Youth kind of noise bands with detuned guitars. It was really fun. I was doing my own solo stuff in the midst of all this. Writing at least.

Can you remember the first songs you wrote?

One of the first things I wrote I ended up using on the song Saviour [on Masseduction] – I’m picturing pressing play and record at the same time on the Tascam 4-track. I don’t remember exactly the first thing I wrote, but I do remember that I would learn other people’s songs and then about three-quarters of the way through I would immediately start trying to write my own things. I’ve never been that great a student, I guess. I think instinct can take you a lot of great places but at a certain point, if you want to keep trying to get better, you do just have to go back and figure out: “OK, this song is great. Why is it great?” Take it apart like a frog in biology. It’s not the sexiest part, but I just find it crazy, endlessly fascinating.

Do you think you’ve written a standard?

A song like What Me Worry? [on Marry Me] was literally inspired by the Great American Songbook. Maybe my song New York [on Masseduction] can go into the canon of songs about New York. It’s a little bit of a hard sell with the word “motherfucker” in it, but who knows? Maybe that would play in 2040, 2050. The obscenity won’t matter. Nobody will care.

There’s a song on the new album named after Warhol Superstar Candy Darling. When you moved to New York after college, were you in thrall to that Warhol idea of the city?

Yeah, I think New York is full of people who have escaped from wherever they’ve come from, unless they were born there. It’s still my favourite city and I still have so much more of a romantic relationship with New York than any other place. I moved there just after college. When I was in college, I would escape Boston and go on the Chinatown bus for $15 and go to the city for the weekend. Hoped I’d find a place to stay and run around and be drunk and see shows. Every single block of downtown has memories – good, bad, ugly, fuzzy – and you’re alive in that place more than other places. That’s my experience and I know I’m not alone. Candy Darling was just so beautiful and singular and funny and I feel kind of a perfect heroine.

On returning to Texas, you were invited to join The Polyphonic Spree – how was that as a learning experience?

I always wanted to be essentially doing what I am doing now but it was so exciting to go from playing little clubs to – I think my first gig with them was at a Spanish festival called Benicàssim. It was like, the elevator doors opened and there were like 40,000 people. The chaos, it’s hot and sweaty, and there’s just that unpredictable ‘What’s going to happen next? Am I going to hop on top of a road case and be wheeled all over the stage?’ We were mostly on the bill with Sonic Youth and the stuff that was big in those days. Franz Ferdinand was really big, Kaiser Chiefs, The Bravery – are all these things ringing bells? Jet was one of the big headliners.

Beyond music, what did you learn from watching other bands on the festival circuit? Any cautionary tales?

One thing that I think of is when I see people with really massive entourages. I know it maybe seems sexy from the outside but you’re paying for all that. I mean, don’t go bankrupt ’cos you’re bringing your entourage around.

From: https://www.mojo4music.com/articles/stories/i-could-be-anybody-today-st-vincent-interviewed/