RR: You also have some fine New Orleans musicians on the record, too. What is the contrast between recording in Brooklyn, as you have done in the past, as compared with Louisiana in recent years? Are there similarities, as well?

AD: Yeah, well, I guess most of this record was worked on in Louisiana. I guess every recording studio is a very different environment, and it’s not just the location…I guess it is…when you are recording in Brooklyn, you’re in a big city, and you’re staying in a hotel, if you’re me; you’re going back and forth to the studio.

The studio that I worked at in Louisiana, you’re staying in a little house out in the country. [Author’s Note: Indeed, the studio is, literally, called Studio in the Country, which is located in Bogaloosa, Louisiana.] There’s a much more secluded, lower key pace, and, then, of course, from there, I did all of the overdubbing and mixing work at home, which is the ultimate in relaxed, pressure-less environment. That’s how I prefer to work, if I can, these days.

But, you know, places like Andy Taub’s studio in Brooklyn [Brooklyn Bridge], where we worked, it is also exciting to be in a new environment with new creative people around you. Andy has wonderful things to offer along the way, and, also, an arsenal of guitar amps that I’ve never tasted before. A Mellotron appears on several tracks, which was recorded in Andy’s studio. He just has this wonderful gear that I don’t have, so that’s sort of ‘kid in a candy shop’ fun.

RR: I noticed that several people are credited with ‘atmosphere’ in the credits.

AD: Well, I guess that was my blanket term for many gizmos and pedals. My friend, Mike Dillon, who plays vibraphone, and Skerik—they have this arsenal of guitar pedals that they run their instruments through, and it can turn the sound of a vibraphone into the sound of a spaceship landing. (laughs) On several tracks, they were lending their pedal-fueled atmosphere to the backdrop of the music, so ‘atmosphere’ was my shorthand.

RR: Speaking of atmosphere, you are one of the forerunners of a generation of independent-minded musicians in a very dependent world. Has that changed for you over the years, or do you find yourself more defiant in your independence?

AD: Yeah, not, yeah, I think I used to have to be much more defiant. Now, I’m luxuriating in independence. (laughs) Back in the day when there was no precedent for it, there was also no respect for it. Condescension was one of the main things that I suffered along the way, along with just general exclusion, and without some of the marketing and the corporate muscle of the record company route. It used to be…I’d be playing in some bar, and somebody would be opening for me, for instance, Jewel (laughs), one day, and six months later, she’s on the cover of every magazine, and all over MTV, and I’m back in that same bar playing again. This happened a lot over the years—me going this long, slow turtle route, and other people were doing the bunny hop.

I used to have to sit myself down on a daily basis and say, “You are not envious. You are not jealous. You are on a different path. There is a reason.” I kept reminding myself: “What is my point ?” And to be cool with it—to be cool with that feeling of being left behind again and again, and sticking to my guns. I used to have to really have a lot of guns to stick to. Now that the music industry has imploded, and everybody is seeking ways of being independent, I find that I have spent twenty years building venue by venue an audience that’s not predicated on a hit single, or a fancy video. They are there for the long haul, they are there for something, and there is a deeper, more lasting connection. And, so, I find myself in a very lucky position. The tables have turned. (laughs)

RR: I felt you had that passion all the way down the line; whereas, some of the artists that hit it big during the 1990s were not interesting to me back then, and I am certainly not listening to them now. A lot of that work is dated. I feel your past work does stand up because it isn’t so much marked by a period of time.

AD: Yeah, that’s one thing I’ve got going for me. They are very individual, yeah, unique types of records along the way, and each different. I guess if I had had the slick producers of the day, maybe I’d sound more formulaic. They are honest. They are honest recordings. It’s not always the best sounding…(laughs)

RR: Along that thought process with the passage of time, a lyric that jumped out at me from the song “If Yr Not” grabbed my attention—if you’re not getting happier as you get older…basically, you must be doing something wrong. That, to me, was very profound because so often, one has it all nailed down when they are young, and as one gets older, that happiness and the ground that one stood on has slipped away.

AD: I guess I had this subliminal will to challenge that age-old idea that when you are young, you are unfettered and free and it’s the happiest time of your life. Then, responsibilities set in, and you get more and more tied onto your own little post, and stuck in your own little corral, and life becomes less and less fun.

I just think that’s bullshit. Or, it can be. I’m 41 now, so I’m developing my own perspective on aging. Yeah, you know, when I was young and bold and didn’t stop to think twice about anything I was doing, there was a freedom. Youth is a fabulous, fabulous energy and full of discovery and, yes, it’s terrific, but it’s also very painful. The younger you get—you see these babies that we have now, and if they feel a little bit hungry, or a little bit cold, they are screaming bloody murder. Through your teens and your early 20s, I think that the great joys of new love and new discoveries come hand-in-hand with these great pains. You have not yet had the experience of “this, too, shall pass,” so much that you believe in it. The pain that you feel can overtake you.

I feel that growing older, hopefully, is a process of coming to know yourself, and knowing thyself is such a good tool for dealing with thyself. I find that I’m getting happier, and it’s not accidental. There’s a lot of effort that I’ve put into it, a lot of consciousness, in trying to undo the destructive behavioral patterns that I learned very early on in life, while developing more constructive ones. That makes my relationships better. Knowing my body in a way that I can’t believe it took me so long to learn.

It’s very sad, I think, especially with females, in the way that we are not given the information that we need to deal with the reproductive system in the modern world. It wasn’t until the late 30s, for me, that I started keeping, for instance, a menstrual calendar, and when everything in my life seemed terrible and everyone was wrong, it used to be that I would create conflicts with that energy out of that problem. Now, I look at my menstrual calendar (laughter), and I say, “Oh! That’s why everything in my life is terrible and everyone’s wrong. O.K., breathe.”

These are things that age can help with, and, also, I was just trying to speak in a humorous way to that possibility [in the lyrics to “If Yr Not”].

RR: You also speak a lot about growth and development, divisions in our society, and disappointment in certain figures in your new songs, but there are unique positive observations on things, too, which were not often found in your past lyrics.

AD: Yeah, definitely. I’m very aware that I’m happier than I’ve ever been. I think I was—in my early years and my early writings—very hopeful and very energetic, but I was powering through a lot of pain. I came from an unhappy family background, so there was just this sort of invisibility about my charge through life, and, after a while, I had to accept that this is not working. I’m not healing myself; although, music, for me, is my path to healing. Writing is the way that I heal myself, but, yeah, I guess after a while I had to sit myself down and say, “This is not getting me all the way to a new me. I have to work harder than this.”

Mike, my fella, really opened that door. When somebody comes along and give you unconditional love and support that you’ve been lacking, it really helps. (laughs)

RR: Absolutely. It must be very fulfilling that you’ve been able to heal so many people through your music, too.

AD: Yeah. Yeah. It’s so great. In times past, when there was more of a cult of celebrity around me, and there was more of a frenetic fan energy that I would have to face every day, it was a drag, and I would recoil from it. But, now, when people approach me, I feel like I’ve reached this nice balance where I can stay open to people, even if I am having a low energy moment, and appreciate it, too. These are really cool people that come up to me, and they say such beautiful things. Now, it’s not just “you got me through high school” stuff. It’s “I’m a mom, now, too, and it’s so amazing to have made this journey in life with you and your music”—this accompanying that we do with each other through music is a beautiful thing, and it makes me feel less alone, as well.

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