For 12 years, Scott Tournet was the guitarist for and founding member of Grace Potter and the Nocturnals. While the steady success of the group brought national attention to the roots-rock band from Vermont, most of that attention focused on Potter as the star. With other musical ambitions bubbling inside him, and the emphasis of managers, producers, and labels pulling away from the Nocturnals and pushing towards Potter, it was time for Tournet to exit. A move to San Diego and a new band, Elektric Voodoo, emerged, enabling the musician to realize a long-held vision of an extended ensemble heavily influenced by Afrobeat and Latin rhythms. We spoke with Tournet, shortly after the release of Elektric Voodoo’s eponymous debut, about the album’s creation, the parting with the Nocturnals, and Voodoo’s plans for touring.
How long have you been waiting to make an album like this?
Since 2001. Without really knowing it, I was on the path to making this kind of music when I graduated from college; from, I guess you’d call it, my senior-year concert, I was basically barking up this tree already.
What took so long?
I was at Goddard College, where the Phish guys went. Everything at that school was all about not going down the middle. It was, like, Sun Ra, and free jazz, and world music. Anything but normal. Nobody cared about The Beatles or the Rolling Stones in that environment. And, that was cool. When I left there, it was a time when I discovered The Band, and The Beatles, and early Stones. That’s when I met Grace (Potter) and (Nocturnals drummer) Matt Burr, and they were kind of enjoying the same thing. And off we went on this minimalistic, simplistic journey into that kind of music. Which I like a lot, too.
You talk a lot about the influence of Afrobeat, particularly Fela Kuti, on this band, and this album. How aware were you of swerving into imitation?
I’m super-aware of that. Having done this for quite a while, I’m very conscious of it. I don’t want to do that. When I look at other bands, there are ones that do that. A band like Antibalas was one I looked to a lot. I love them. They’re great. I saw them live, years and years ago, and they do it so well. They’re probably the best example of Afrobeat that I’ve seen in the States. But, I feel like everyone else I saw doing Afrobeat was like an exact re-creation of that. That’s what I didn’t want to do.
The interesting thing to me was to write songs up against Afrobeat influences. I haven’t heard a lot of people doing that. It’s more unchartered territory. I think with the Nocturnals, early on, like a lot of young musicians do, we were trying to sound like Neil Young on Harvest, or the Stones’ Exile on Main Street. “Let’s try and record that way.” And that was fun, but I’m not interested in doing that.
Is it something in the music that sets off that alarm, that it’s not enough of your own style in the process?
It’s more feel than thought. All the music that I wrote for the last record- and I’m writing a new album now- I’m writing by myself, generally. When I’m crafting a song, I try out this move and that move, and it’s that process. So, when I’m done, I’m excited about it. It needs to feel right. If I’m too far into Fela Kuti mimicry, then I’m not going to do it. It’s the rhythm and the groove that’s exciting. Afrobeat is the main reference, but to break it down, there is as much a Latin influence, like early Santana, coming through. And, there’s some funk, too. I’m just really bored with American rhythms. I feel we’ve heard them so much. It’s like, let’s try anything else out.
How much of a turn away from a perception of who you are is this band, this approach?
I always feel a part of the jam world, but there’s a part of me that’s fighting against it. It’s great, where it comes from. I love improvisation. But, let’s keep pushing forward, as opposed to retreading the same songs and same grooves again and again.
Sometimes it takes artist known so well for something to say, we can also do this. Like Dylan going electric.
That’s how I personally felt. The latest record is the one I’m happiest about- it’s a very standard thing to say. But, I felt that way, about opening this door. Like, I can do this? This whole new world of possibilities is open now that I’ve broken down that wall.
Are you writing with your personnel in mind?
I totally am, and it’s been really enjoyable. The last record I did mostly by myself, so I didn’t have anybody in mind. I just went wherever the muse led me. I’d put four guitars on a song, not thinking who is going to play it, or how it would be played. Which is cool, too. But, with this record, I have a good band of very good musicians. It’s been really fun, and it gave me parameters to work within; not going too far, like putting 48 tracks on a song just for the hell of it.
Was there something from the Nocturnals experience, or any experience, for that matter, that you wanted to remain conscious of when you made the record?
I think it was more unconscious. Looking back I can see what it was. The main thing was rhythmically I wanted to be knocked out. With the Nocturnals, it was a more meat-and-potatoes approach to music, which I can appreciate. Very rock-and-roll. After 12 years of treating every piece of music that way, there was this thrust inside of me. The first thing that ever got to me was a drum solo I heard when I was seven. It got the hair standing up on my arms. It was like, what’s this? That’s the thing I’m attracted to first. I played drums as the first instrument I ever played. So, I just wanted the drums to kick ass, and to be poly-rhythmic, like Santana at Woodstock. I needed that. More consciously, I was pretty burnt out from L.A.: record producers, and trying to follow the trends of what was on the radio.
Does it seem cosmically correct that you are now living and playing this music in San Diego, a place that is such a contrast to Vermont? Carlos Santana was born just over the border in Tijuana, Mexico…
I kind of fight looking at things that way. As much of a hippie as I can be, I’m also prone to cynicism and disbelief. That being said, this was a very good place to land. When I was 6 years old, a friend and I genuinely tried to run away to California. There’s always been this impulse to get to the golden land of California. When I ended up here many years later, something felt good about it.
*There has never been a time when there has been so little separation between artist and audience, including, as you undertook, having fans help finance the production of an album. What is your view on this? *
I think it can be a good thing. I put out a solo record, funding everything myself, and it didn’t go well. There were other reasons, like not having time to continually support it. But, then I did a crowdfunding thing and it was a much better experience. Financially, it allowed me to do this, where the other model was not working. I was losing money to put out music, which I would continue to do because I love it, but, at some point, you hope to, at least, recoup your cost, if not eek out some kind of small living. I think it’s great to cut out the middle man. I think it’s nice. The more people that can do the music they want to do without the goal of just making money- which generally dilutes the art- I think is cool. On the other side of the coin, while it’s great that the field is open, it’s a little diluted because anybody can throw their hat in the ring. I don’t have strong feelings either way. I’m glad a lot of people can make music.
Do you think that what happened with the Nocturnals was in some way inevitable? History has a lot of examples of a lead singer being treated differently from the band.
I was prepared for that. The second we started getting attention from managers or record labels was the second all of us got told very directly how decidedly unimportant we were to everything. (Laughs)
Right from the start?
Right off the rip, the first manager comes in, whispering things in Grace’s ear, having meetings without the rest of us. You kind of get kicked right out of the gate. It’s all our dreams to be musicians, to be successful, and it’s really exciting, but it’s a weird parallel between being exciting and also being made to feel like shit. It can really throw you off on a head trip. It was something that I was really reckoning with from day one. I didn’t like that. It was disappointing to me. I did have something to do with it. I wasn’t the star, certainly, and I respected that and was okay with that. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have joined a band called “Grace Potter and the Nocturnals.”
Do you think about that now, being the frontman of Elektric Voodoo?
It’s so different, being a guy. Unfortunately, it’s true; we’re still in the dark ages as far as how we respond to female artists. The first thing 99% of the time gets focused on is sex. If you read what anybody says when they don’t like a female artist- in a comment section- it’s, she’s fat or she’s ugly. Being a guy takes a ton of the Gwen Stefani/No Doubt thing out of the equation. The way I behave on stage, the fact that we’re a large group, doesn’t lend itself to that. We’re an eight-piece, and that’s kind of what I like about it. When we perform, there’s a lot to look at.
Speaking of performing, I’m guessing you will tour?
We just got a booking agent, so that’s certainly the plan. We’re going to go for it. It’s a slow burn, to start from scratch again. You have to get out and play live. It’s what I love to do, but I don’t want to spend nine months on tour again. We’re doing everything the wrong way; an eight-piece makes no sense on paper. But, you’ve got to go with what feels right.
Will you be touring all over the country? Any festivals?
This first summer will be Midwest/West Coast, maybe two weeks at a time. As for festivals, it will be whatever works, whoever will have us. I’m not fussy about it. I think once people see and hear it, it’s going to resonate.
