This I can tell you from experience, Edward: they don’t leave you. Every day there’s something you’ll do or say and you realize … it’s them. They’re still with you; it’s just a different relationship.

That’s true: it’s impossible for them to leave you … you are what they made you.

After my mom passed, I went out on tour with my friend John Hickman from Cracker. We did an acoustic duo thing together; I was playing some of the new songs and John was just kind of helping me get my mind off things. My old tour manager from Tire Fire was driving us around, actually. When he heard a couple demos of the new songs I’d written, he told me, “It’s time to do a solo record, man.”

So the songs themselves evolved over a couple of years or so; how long did the actual recording sessions for Lies & Wishes take?

Five days.

Wow. (laughter)

Yeah: John and I did a solo run last fall and went East. I played New York on a Saturday; drove to Columbia, Missouri on Sunday; and started recording the next day. Steve had just played a gig in St. Louis with Los Lobos the night before.

Like it was meant to be.

That’s right. (laughs)

We’ve already mentioned a couple of the songs on the album – let’s take a look at a few others. “Lost And Found” is another one that’s full of big thoughts and big feelings, but that old grunting bass and rollicking drum line keeps the overall mood from being too heavy.

You know, when I demoed that song, I was fingerpicking it like a folk song. Imagine Joan Baez picking with her fingers – that was kind of what I was hearing in my head when I wrote it. Slowly it turned into something else; I took this Tom Waits kind of approach to it … and that really turned everything upside down; it became this unstoppable groove.

What are you playing for a guitar on that song?

Just an old nylon-stringed acoustic guitar that I own. I put a rolled-up piece of paper towel under the bridge to mute the strings slightly so they wouldn’t ring out.

That track is just Steve and I: he’s playing the keyboards, the shaker, and the triangle; I’m playing the guitars, the bass, and the vocal. It’s probably my favorite song on the record – it’s eerie, but it moves you at the same time.

We talked about “Son Of A Plumber”, but I wanted to ask you: the keyboard part is so cheesy –

Yeah! (laughs)

But it’s perfect. It sounds like you found an old Casio at the solid waste transfer station and got it going.

You’re actually pretty close. I think it’s from the ‘70s – a Yamaha wind organ. It’s really chintzy and has this kind of hokey sound. We were playing that tune and trying to figure out what to do the melody on. At one point we were listening to the playback and I saw this weird wind organ sitting next to me … so I turned it on and started playing it.

And we all said, “That’s it.” It’s like something Jay Bennett would’ve used, you know? It just happened to work.

I take it that’s one of the many things you and Steve share: the appreciation for the “Jay Bennett period” of Wilco.

Oh, yeah – Steve was good friends with all those guys and he’s very familiar with those albums. I mean, his knowledge of music in general is through the roof – but he’s a big fan of those records. We’re on the same page.

Steve’s also one of those guys that never forgets a song. Like … “I Miss You” – I wrote that song 14 years ago in my head when I was driving my van from central Illinois to the mountains of North Carolina, coming back from a 2-week tour. I had it in my head and when I got home, I picked up a guitar and recorded it.

When we made Good To Be with Tire Fire in 2010, I thought I included that song in the demo I sent Steve for ideas of what we should put on the record. When I told him that while we were recording Lies & Wishes, he said, “There’s no way you could’ve sent me that for Good To Be because I would remember it. I can hear a song one time and if it’s good, 25 years later I’ll remember hearing it. I don’t forget a good song and this is a good song – you did not send me this tune.”

And I’m, like, “Okay …” (laughter)

And he was dead serious.

“Pins and Needles” – the gentle tumble of the drums establish the foundation, but those angular chord changes between the verses really set up a tension.

That’s totally what that was. I told you earlier about my wife’s mom’s decline with dementia – I would go visit her by myself and I’d take my acoustic guitar in with me. I would sit with her and I would play songs – Beatles songs. That’s what she loved – that and Motown stuff.

I don’t even know that she knew who I was at that point … she wasn’t able to really communicate and wasn’t very mobile – but when I played those songs, I could see her tapping her foot or moving her hand. I’d be playing something like “I Want To Hold Your Hand” and she’d react to that … where you wouldn’t get her to react to anything else.

Basically, I tried to write “Pins & Needles” from her perspective – from the perspective of someone who’s slowly losing her mind. She had this look of concern on her face – this furrowed brow … and I wondered if she knew what was coming. She looked like she was on pins and needles.

That’s what I was referring to in the lyrics – “A melody that bring backs a memory” – playing “I Want To Hold Your Hand” and having her move to that melody.

Edward, these are some powerful and personal things you’re sharing … I want you to know that if you decide after the fact you’d rather I didn’t write about them, all you have to do is say the word.

Thank you. I’ve actually talked with my wife about this; I asked her: “Are you okay with me telling people where some of these songs came from?” And she told me to go ahead.

Because I don’t have to – I don’t always tell people what the songs are about; it’s okay for them to slap their own thing onto it and claim it for their own. It doesn’t have to be exactly what I was writing about, as long as you get something out of it … that’s the main thing.

Plus, talking about it is almost like an exorcising for me; I need to do it. The songs on this record are the most heart-on-the-sleeve, honest songs that I’ve ever let anyone else hear, you know?

Do you happen to remember any of Steve’s reactions when he first heard these songs? Say, “Pins & Needles”, for instance?

Yeah: when I e-mailed the demo to Steve, his response was: “Fucking great – do you have any more like this?” (laughter)

I guess that said it all, right?

It’s fun to send one of your heroes a tune and you get a response back like that – yeah. It was like when Steve heard the demo for “Lies & Wishes” for the first time: he told me that was going to be the first song on the album. That was it. He heard it once and said, “There’s your opening song.”

And he was right.

Beyond the power of the lyrics and melody, I love your guitar lead on “Pins & Needles”. What were you using for that?

That same old, shitty nylon-stringed guitar I mentioned earlier. (laughter)

Really?

I will fill you in on this: I actually got that guitar at a pawnshop for sixty bucks. I was camping and didn’t have a guitar with me; I went into this pawnshop and found that guitar. The thing is, that guitar is the same one that’s sold on the late-night infomercials by that guy Esteban.

Wicked!

Yeah! (laughter) That’s an Esteban nylon-stringed guitar that’s played on almost every song on my record. I wrote all those songs on it. And I literally paid sixty bucks for it.

Who cares, though – it’s got a great sound!

I know. (laughs) I just had new tuners put on, because I’d completely stripped the original ones. All the finish is completely worn off the neck … but it’s an easy guitar to play.

That’s what Esteban says on the infomercials. (laughter)

I love that guitar.

Another specific moment I was going to ask about is on “Chain Reaction”: there’s a little bit of a yank – an unexpected note that takes this unexpected turn … you have a major-theme path started and suddenly there’s this yank in another direction – and a weird dissonance in the background.

Yeah!

Where did that come from?

One of the things I really like about that tune is the guy that owns the studio – Wil Reeves, who also plays bass on a couple of the songs – played the saw. I mean, an actual saw that a carpenter would use to cut 2×4s.

Oh, sure – I know about this.

Really?

Oh, yeah: my father would play the handsaw when I was little … just walk into the shop where we’d be working on the old wooden lobster traps, pick up the saw – and he’d put this sort of s-bend in the blade, right?

Exactly! (laughs)

I was exposed to that before I ever heard the theremin on “Good Vibrations”. Jimmy Page should’ve played a handsaw on “Whole Lotta Love”. (laughter)

It’s a really weird sound with its own vibe. I really love that section of “Chain Reaction” – the middle part with the weird, dissonant banjo coupled with the handsaw? It’s probably the strangest moment on the record. I appreciate strange – it’s right up my alley. (laughter)

I’m betting people will be using the lyrics to “Fires” for their wedding vows all over the world.

That’s funny, because that’s actually the first love song that I’ve written. People have used lyrics from my songs in their weddings … inscribed them on the inside of their wedding bands or whatever. (laughs) But you’re probably right. It is a romantic tune: “I want to live each day like it’s the last we have together” You don’t write that until you’ve seen your mom go and your dad’s just clueless, standing there befuddled and wondering, “What’s next?”

“I want to build fires for you forever” – simple words, but … Jesus …

Thank you. I came home from a gig late one night and I brought in a couple of armloads of firewood – I heat my house with wood. I stuffed the woodstove and got it going again … and I’m standing in my kitchen, looking out the window at all the stacks of wood that I’d split. And it dawned on me: “You know, there’s going to be a day that I’m not going to be able to do this – I’m not going to be able to carry loads of firewood in; I’m not going to able to split all this wood. Maybe it’ll be in my 70s or 80s or whatever … but at some point, I’m not going to be able to do this anymore. It’s a temporary thing.”

And that’s when I wrote down, “I want to build fires for you forever” on a little piece of scratch paper and left it on the counter for my wife to see the next morning. I didn’t realize it at the time that it would be the first line to a song; I left it as a note for her – and she still carries it with her in her wallet to this day. The song just kind of basically came out of that one line.

It really is beautiful.

Thank you.

And to me, “The Next Melody” had to be the closer – that’s your “Moonlight Mile”. It’s the perfect ending.

Exactly – you’re right. I knew that from the get-go. From the first time I did the demo in the basement, I was thinking, “This is how the record closes.”

“The Next Melody” gives you hope. That was basically my mom telling me, “Don’t ever stop doing this; don’t ever settle for anything; keep pushing; keep writing.” That’s basically where that came from.

There were times post-Tire Fire when I was depressed – my wife’s mom had passed away; my mom was sick – and I was, like, “Maybe my thing is I’m supposed to play these little shit holes in central Illinois. I’m supposed to sit in the corner for a couple hundred bucks a night and be happy with that … just try to enjoy the moment.”

And I remember telling her that and she was like, “No, no, no – that’s not who you are. Don’t settle; don’t get complacent; keep pushing forward. You’ve got something to say and you should be out there, doing it.”

I’ve never forgotten that. It was very motivational; very inspirational to get that feedback from her in the state that she was in.

I’ll be honest, man – that was a very, very dark period. It was easy for me to think, “Maybe I’m not that great of a writer – I’ve had my run; I’ve had my shot … now just settle in …” I had all kinds of shit going through my head at that time. Getting that advice from my mother was huge.

Edward, I can honestly tell you that these songs touched me, just listening to them … and hearing you talk about where they came from only adds to the experience.

Thank you. I really, really do hope in my deepest of desires that people get something out of it.

I hope that someone who’s lost someone close to them hears “Nothing Lasts Forever” and realizes that they’re not alone … and that they will get through it.

I hope that someone hears the song “Fires” and realizes that they might be taking something for granted in their relationship … and they should be enjoying the moment with the person they’re with – rather than thinking about being somewhere else.

Yeah … I hope that people do get something out of it, for sure.

*****

Brian Robbins hasn’t had a TV since April of 1995 – but if he did, he’d watch Esteban infomercials over at www.brian-robbins.com

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