THE SINGER-SONGWRITER ON LUCKY GUITARS AND THE FIGHT FOR REAL MUSIC
After 50 million album sales, Sheryl Crow is still rock’s most congenial global superstar. Here, the singer-songwriter talks about lucky guitars, A-list collaborations and the fight for real music
t a time when we’re told the music industry is on its knees, the Warner Bros office in Kensington is a reassuring beacon of luxury. This is how a record label HQ should look: a world of chrome, leather and macrobiotic juice, where great glass elevators shuttle you skywards, to the room where Sheryl Crow awaits, finishing a croissant.
Encounters with global superstars can be disappointing affairs, all the spontaneity sucked from the air by autopilot answers and juicy lines of enquiry shut down by attendant press officers. But as she dispatches her manager to the adjoining room and kicks her feet up on the sofa, it’s clear that Crow is exactly how you hoped she might be: friendly, funny and frank about the hopes and fears that drive her 10th album, Be Myself. Are you pleased with Be Myself? “I am. Record making for me is generally not stress-free, but this was. It was painless. It should always be that way, but it isn’t. 10 albums in, I’ve finally got the hang of it.” What was the vibe like in the studio? “The objective was just to capture something authentic. We recorded this one the exact same way we recorded the early records, which was Jeff Trott on guitar, me on bass with a mic, writing and recording it as we went. Alone In The Dark actually worked in reverse. I played that little guitar riff and Jeff played bass. We switched it up.” It’s notoriously hard to play bass and sing at the same time… “I think because I grew up as a piano player, my brain is able to sub-divide the way drummers do. I can split it. I probably play bass like a guitar player, unfortunately. I’m meat-and-potatoes, so I can’t get too far out into the melodic mode. But I do think the feel I have is unique to me. Most artists wind up sounding like themselves.” There’s a few great players on the album – Jeff, Doyle Bramhall II, Gary Clark Jr… “Yeah. The album is predominantly Jeff. But there were a couple of things – and Jeff is the first to say this – that required the heroic guitar soloing. Doyle played on Heartbeat Away, very kinda Gimme Shelter; I love his soaring, demonic-sounding, crazy playing. Then Gary played on Halfway There. I loved the wah rhythm and the line he played.” Do you rate those guys as highly as everyone else seems to? “Oh yeah. I’ve said this to Gary on numerous occasions, that he’s like the great hope to me. They are definitely two of my favourite guitar players ever. And I’ve seen – and worked with – some great ones.” Including Keith Richards. You’ve said he was your biggest childhood guitar hero? “Yeah. Y’know, most girls wanted to be the singer. I always wanted to be the side guy. I was the kid that, while everybody else wanted to be in Heart, I wanted to be Keith. It was the coolness and the playing. The way he played guitar definitely resonated with me. Even though he’s obviously British, he has a real rural kinda feel. You can definitely feel the Chicago stomp coming through. He’s just completely authentic. There are those rare opportunities to meet your heroes – and they totally let you down. That guy did not.” Who were your other guitar touchstones? “Obviously, Eric has been a big hero. I grew up in a small town in Missouri and the music we heard predominantly came out of Chicago blues, Texas swing, country. So the UK bands I always loved were influenced by that kind of music. Like Derek And The Dominos; I could totally relate to that. When The Rolling Stones did Exile and Let It Bleed, it sounded like they were doing their own version of country. Then they gave birth to The Flying Burrito Brothers, Gram Parsons and Emmylou Harris, who I always loved and wanted to be like.”
You’ve always put your heart out there as a lyricist – is that easy to do? “Well, I remember Bruce Springsteen saying that if you’re being honest as a writer, you’re basically creating a diary. If people listen to this new record, they’ll definitely get a fair depiction of who I am. I think it’s a positive record, although I’m like everybody else who’s living in these times. I am worried. I am scared. I’m very nervous about the future. What’s been liberating to me is my age. I’ve basically experienced the gamut of emotions when it comes to being in the music business. I think it’s easier just having the freedom to say what I want. I’ll say whatever the hell I want!” Tell us about your lucky ’64 Country Western Gibson… “I’ve always called it the moneymaker. Because most of the songs I’ve written that have made any [impression] on my bank account have been written on that. Y’know, If It Makes You Happy, Every Day Is A Winding Road. Alone In The Dark was written on that, too. I bought it from a guitar shop in LA for $1,500 so, yeah, it’s paid for itself. It has a small neck and it was easy to play, and I just loved the way it sounded. I’ve bought numerous guitars, even other Country Westerns from that same year, but this one just speaks to me. I definitely subscribe to the idea that when you pick up an instrument, it will often lead you, dictate the chords you choose. And I do adhere to the idea that the vibrations of music do change the shape of molecules.” Do you think you lose those good vibrations if you’re just clicking a mouse? “Definitely. I always harken back to old footage of my heroes playing guitar and singing on the one mic. And how important it is that it’s not just the instrument or the voice. It’s the room. It’s what’s happening around you that’s captured on a mic. And with regard to my guitars, I feel like there’s 100 years that some of these instruments have had fingers on them. It’s like a piece of vintage jewellery that has been worn by someone. It has the many experiences of one’s life, somehow melded into it.” What’s your core setup these days? “I had a couple of 60s Vox AC30s in the studio. For electric, I typically play an old ’61 Tele, and also my 50s Tele: both of those are my go-to. I also have a Cherry ’64 Gibson 335, a Guild Aristocrat and a Les Paul Junior that Jeff plays a lot on the record. But for me, this record was predominantly my Country Western, through a little modern Fender tweed amp. I have a ’72 Guild M-85 and that was the bass I played mostly. And then I also have a ’50s P-Bass, which I also play through a typical little Ampeg combo.” Any pedals with that? “Not so much. I think so much of it is in your bones and your feel. It’s like Pino Palladino: I can always tell if it’s him playing. I worked with Lindsey Buckingham on Stevie Nicks’ record [2001’s Trouble In Shangri-La]. He didn’t even walk in with a guitar, and yet he could make every guitar and every amp in that studio sound like him.” What do you look for in a guitar? “It’s hard to say. It’s like asking, ‘What do you look for in a mate?’ I guess it’s the personality. I think there’s an intrinsic connection you have with an instrument that makes you want to play it. I have a couple of really beautiful guitars in my studio… but I never pick ’em up.” What is it about the Tele? “I think part of that connection is my relationship with Keith Richards – I mean, all the way back to before I knew him. It is the sound of rock ’n’ roll to me. It’s much less blues than a Strat. It’s the rhythm player’s guitar. I can move around. It’s beefy-sounding. It’s my guitar of choice.” Is there any guitar that you wouldn’t be seen dead with? “I’d say I’m not a big fan of the 80s guitars. A leopard-print Kramer? No, I don’t have any of those.” Do you have any favourite guitar moments from your catalogue? “Yeah, My Favorite Mistake. I vividly remember being in the studio, Jeff and I,
both sitting on amps next to the board, him playing that main riff and me falling in on the bass. Next thing you know, we had a song. And after it was recorded, I wound up calling everyone I knew and asking them, ‘Have you ever heard this song before? I’m sure we’ve ripped it off and I’m going to be sued.’ But you know what – it hadn’t been written before.” One of the new songs, Grow Up, suggests you don’t want to get older? “Yeah. That song was a direct result of Prince dying. When someone dies, you see all this old footage of them, and to watch the innocence, the joy when he played – he was like a kid. He was by far the most incredible musician I’ve ever worked with. So it was his death and all that footage and my recollections of him – juxtaposed with all these people, the so-called ‘best of us’, running for President, and how ugly that looked. I wound up writing a song about, y’know, how do we maintain our innocence? Like, if that’s what adulthood looks like, then I want no part of it.” What advice would you give the Sheryl Crow from 1993? “To be yourself. Because along the way – especially the more successful you become – the more people want to tell you what you should be.” Did you enjoy the fame? “It’s sorta like being a frog in a pot of water. Y’know, it was great when we were working towards something, but when we got there, it wasn’t as much fun as I thought it should be. I put a lot of pressure on myself. One magazine wrote about me having had a heroin addiction, crazy stuff. I was never that wild. I probably drank way too much…” Do you ever miss those early days back in the van? “Well, we always laugh – ‘Ah, the salad days.’ There was something sorta romantic about it when I look back. We had one mission: that was to go out and play for people. There’s something innocent and romantic about that. There were no cell phones or anything. Whereas nowadays, you’d never want to be that insular. You’d want to be taking pictures of everything you did and documenting your life so that everybody could watch. I think if I had to come out again now, there’s no way I’d do it.” Back then, did you actually want to be a guitar hero? “Oh yeah. I mean, I wanted to be great. I wanted to be mythical. Like Fleetwood Mac. Led Zeppelin. Larger than life.” You play multiple instruments. What keeps you coming back to the guitar and bass? “Well, I think you can rock on the guitar, more than you can on the keyboards. But also, I’m really drawn to playing guitar because I feel like I’m still discovering it. And I guess that’s what’s fun about anything, isn’t it, when you feel like your best is still in front of you?” So do you actively work on your guitar technique these days? “Yeah, I do. I’m still intrigued with the possibility of being better than I am. It’s fun to try to outsmart myself, to try and outdo what I’ve already done.” is there any technique or style on guitar that you want to be better at? “Oh, across the board. I would love to be able to deliver a ripping guitar solo – but I don’t have the confidence to do that. I also don’t have the discipline it takes, or the luxury of time to sit down and shred. I certainly want to be present for my kids. Sitting in a room trying to perfect solos… I’m just not going to be able to get there.” You have worked with BB King, Clapton, Prince – have you learnt anything from those players? “I guess through osmosis. I think I’ve discovered myself through playing with those people. I guess it’s like bringing your tennis game out onto the court with John McEnroe – you do up your game a bit when you even stand in the same arena as these people. Just playing with Prince made me step up. It’s always good to get out of your comfort zone.” Does it bother you that women are so badly represented in ‘best guitarist’ polls? “Yeah, I wish young girls would take more interest in playing instruments – maybe more so than choreography. But, y’know, look at what’s popular. So I guess there’s more of a desire to be a great dancer. It’s gonna be pop for a while, I think, for girls – until they realise there’s a lot of power in wielding an instrument. I’m doing my best to keep that alive.” Sheryl Crow’s new album, Be Myself, is out now on Wylie Songs/Warner Bros www.sherylcrow.com