What was your first recording experience?
In 2011, I recorded an EP [Imperfecta] with Alan Sparhawk [Tape Op #31] from the band Low. He lives in my town of Duluth, and we had started playing some music together for a live film score. We liked playing together, so we decided to form a band called The Murder of Crows – it was mostly instrumental. He would loop my music with a [Electro-Harmonix] Memory Man looping pedal, and I would play harmonies to what I was hearing. That is how I got started looping in the first place. We recorded that EP in my living room; and was the first recording I ever made. That was fun and low key, because we were just jamming and he edited out parts that didn't work. It was all very experimental and atmospheric. Alan has tons of experience and knows what he is doing, so I felt at ease. Then, in 2013, I recorded another album [Hand by Hand] in an actual studio with a group I was in called Snöbarn. That was a full band project and a little more intense, but I was mostly just doing backup parts. The recording that sticks out to me was in 2015 when I recorded my first solo album [2015's All the Roads that Lead Us Home]. For that one I rented out the Sacred Heart Music Center; a church turned recording studio that has beautiful acoustics. I was super nervous, so I hired this one engineer, Jake Larson, who I still work with. We got all of the album done in one afternoon, because it was live looping. But I was nervous when we were starting. I called my counselor and said, "I think I might be having a heart attack." She said, "You might just be really nervous. Why don't you go finish the session, and if you still feel this way afterwards then you should go to the hospital." [laughs]
Wow, a "showbiz first" psychologist!
Yeah! But I didn't die. When I first started doing recordings, I felt this pressure to get everything right. "Everything has to be perfect." Because the recordings were live looping, I felt a lot of pressure. But, over time, I have begun to see recording as a sound sculpture that can be built throughout the process. That is a much more relaxing and fun way to think of it. But at the beginning, I didn't have that perspective. Since it was a solo album, it was the first time I felt like, "Oh, no. I'm making an 'album,'" and I got myself all worked up. Ever since that album, recording has been a lot more fun.
You tracked the entire album in one afternoon?
Yep. I played each song three times; I sang two of them and live-looped at the same time. It's pretty raw, but it's a cool album. It does have that special vibe because it was all done live and has a different feel than a multitracked record with tons of different musicians playing. It's not broken up into pieces at all. After we recorded, I'd listen to the tracks and tell him when to fade in and fade out – "Start at second :24 and end at 3:21" or whatever – because that's all we could do with the mixing since it's all live and not multitracked. It only took three or four hours, but I had practiced a lot beforehand to get better with the looping pedal. I had a weekly, two-hour live gig at a pizza shop – Bulldog Pizza & Grill – for 12 months. No one was really listening at the pizza parlor; it was kind of background music. It was good practice. I even ended up doing my record release there.
How did you start looping yourself and playing solo?
Alan was the one who previously had always done all of the looping for me. He is so generous. About a year after we started working together, he came in with a looping pedal and an amp and said, "These are for you. You should figure out how to do this yourself so that you can play by yourself someday." I didn't think I ever would play by myself, but then I got hooked on looping. It was an Electro-Harmonix Memory Man with Hazarai pedal. That's about the only gear information I can give you during this interview! [laughs] I can't record anything on it, so at the end of every song everything is gone. I have to hold the button down the entire time I'm using it in order for it to work. But I can do reverse play on it, and octaves. The amp I use is the Fishman Loudbox Mini. I love that little guy. It works really well with violins, and it has two inputs so it can be used as a PA when I do small gigs at schools. I've got a good pickup on my violin, an LR Baggs. I started out with a stick-on pickup, and then I also tried taping a lapel mic to the violin. Then I tried a drum mic that attaches with a built-in suction pad. But violins have a lot of high frequencies, so they feedback very easily. The LR Baggs is built into the bridge of the violin and is really sensitive, so I don't have to crank it up too much. I've tried distortion pedals, but violins are pretty finicky.
Every time you play a song, it's 100 percent from scratch?
Yes. I love that it is so organic. I have to be in the moment. It's like a Zen practice, where nothing is saved and it all disappears at the end.
What role does fear play in performance? Nelson Muligo, from the Malawi Mouse Boys, once told me, "Playing in front of a bunch of white people onstage is not something to be afraid of. Going days without being able to feed my family, that is what's scary." For that band, the concept of "stage fright" was a non-factor.
That is so helpful to hear that perspective. I did an album in Minneapolis, and the engineer there [Zachary Hollander at The Pearl Recording Studio] had been recording forever and said, "You're building something. That's all. It's a snapshot of the moment and where you are. It doesn't have to be anything more than that." He also told me, "Comping vocals isn't a sin." [laughs] I didn't even know that I could comp vocals, at all. I said, "Wait, you can do that?" And he said, "Yes. Everyone does it." That took a lot of pressure off to get the perfect take. Live performance is a little different. There's a quote I read a long time ago that said, "Pursuing your passion is always going to mean living on the edge of fear." Success leads you to another opportunity that's just as daunting as the previous one. You have to become okay with being afraid. I can have a show that doesn't go well, and someone can still come up afterwards and say, "I really needed to hear that today." It isn't really about you. It's about the music connecting with the audience. So, taking yourself out of the equation to some extent is a good way to get over the fear. At the end of the day, people can hate your album and you can be booed offstage, and it really doesn't change the value of who you are as a person. It's hard to remember that in the age of social media. The main thing is to always make it about the audience. I try to channel the energy out towards the crowd. Just shove it out through my chest and towards them. Experimenting with energy onstage – especially sending it out to people – is a fun way to get out of my own head and be in the present moment.
You taught music for many years. How has that informed your recordings and performances?
