‘Sometimes I just don’t like being around people – even the ones I love…’

 

Steve Drizos in SE Portland, May 2023. Photo by Jason Quigley.

 

Steve Drizos’s new album, the amusingly-entitled i love you now leave me alone, sees the Portland singer-songwriter and producer expanding his sound with a full band, but, like its predecessor, 2021’s well-received and experimental Axiom, it’s still rooted in his love of ’90s alt-rock. 

“I like a record that takes me out of reality – I love folk music, but I want to be transported somewhere, so I love the energy of ‘90s rock,” he tells Say It With Garage Flowers

“I’m loving being a front person in this band – as much as it scares the shit out of me, it’s very gratifying.”

When we last spoke to Portland-based singer-songwriter, engineer and producer, Steve Drizos, it was for the release of his 2021 debut solo album, Axiom – a strong and diverse record that embraced ‘90s alt-rock and psych-folk, and also threw in a trance-like instrumental, female vocal samples, and even a proggy synth solo.

That album, which was written and recorded during the start of the pandemic, saw Drizos experimenting in his SE Portland studio, The Panther, and playing most of the instruments himself.

Now he’s back with the follow-up, i love you now leave me alone, which is even better than its predecessor and, as well as upping the ‘90s alt-rock sound – Radiohead’s The Bends was a key influence – saw Drizos working with a full band: Joe Mengis (Eels/Dancehall Days/Love Gigantic): drums; Tim Murphy (RoughCuts): bass, backing vocals; Todd Wright: electric guitars, backing vocals, and Jenny Conlee (The Decemberists), who just so happens to also be his wife. Drizos sang and played guitars, synths and percussion.

As well as Radiohead, influences this time around included The Afghan Whigs, early Foo Fighters and Mogwai, and Say It With Garage Flowers can also hear a touch of R.E.M, although Drizos assures us that wasn’t intentional.

There’s the crunching, Sugar-like, loud and anthemic power-rock of opener Boomerang; the jangly Americana of Troubled Heart and Katie,  the moody and atmospheric ballad Shadow Life; the summery strum of Brooklyn 97202, the widescreen, alt-rock epic Beautiful Nothing, and the naked and honest folk ballad, Inside Outside.

For his day job, Drizos is a producer and engineer – he’s worked with artists including Patterson Hood (Drive-By Truckers), Debbi Peterson (The Bangles), Spencer Tweedy (Tweedy), Chris Funk (The Decemberists), and Scott McCaughey (R.E.M., The Minus 5, The Young Fresh Fellows). He also plays drums for Jerry Joseph and The Jackmormons.

In an exclusive interview over Zoom from The Panther in SE Portland, he tells us why he took a different approach for album number two, how he’s grown in confidence as a singer-songwriter and a performer, and why he loves ‘90s rock…

Q&A

Hi Steve. I really like the title of the new album… 

Steve Drizos: I’m glad that you enjoy it…

Your first solo album, Axiom, was experimental, and you made it during Covid, largely on your own, but for this one you took a different approach, as it’s more of a full-band record. Why was that?

SD: That’s right. I was really motivated to have more collaborations on this project. I realised with the first record, if I had an idea of what a song or a particular chord change should sound like, it was only going to be as good as that.

When you start collaborating with someone else, that’s when things can start taking a different angle – doors open, and you can start to go in a direction you didn’t expect to. That’s the beauty of collaboration. As much as I loved being insular and the process of working by myself when I was making the first record, with this one there was that element of trading ideas with somebody else in the room.

And, also, with my experience of being a recording engineer, I really noticed the difference in the feel and the energy of making a record when a band is tracking live as opposed to when you’re piecing a record together. I missed that part of it, so that was the motivation.

‘Put a 12-string on anything and you can’t not be compared to R.E.M.’

Did any of the songs change dramatically from the demos to the finished versions?

SD: I don’t think any of the songs drastically changed – I had a strong idea and vision of what the album was going to sound like from the get-go. I wanted people who could play their instruments much better than I could, but I also wanted to add colours and parts to give it a bit more life – I have limited guitar experience and chord vocabulary.

It feels like more of a rock guitar / ‘pop’ album than your first one – there are no squiggly synth solos this time round…

SD: (Laughs) Right…

You’re into your ‘90s rock and that shows on this record. Some of it reminds me of R.E.M…

SD: A couple of people have mentioned that. That’s really interesting – I’m a huge R.E.M. fan but it certainly wasn’t an influence that I was drawing from on this record. Maybe it’s just ingrained in my DNA and it pops up when you don’t expect it…

Your wife’s band, The Decemberists, used to get a lot of R.E.M. comparisons…

SD: Yes, they did – and they continue to. Put a 12-string on anything and you can’t not be compared to R.E.M.

You told me in our last interview that making your first album saved your life – you’d been battling anxiety, depression and addiction. It was an introspective album and a difficult record to make, but it helped you.  Lyrically, this album seems to be less about you and more about other people – it deals with family and relationships…

SD: That’s absolutely true. I had the music for the majority of the record finished before I had any of the lyrics done.

I’m learning that it’s a difficult thing to work out what the thread is going to be – for a record to feel cohesive, there’s got to be a loose thread that runs through it. Once you have a ball park or a bullseye to aim for, everything falls into place.

As I was continuing my journey through sobriety and self-realisation, I realised that I am very much an introvert. Maybe I used to mistake that for social anxiety, but sometimes I just don’t like being around people – even the ones I love. I’m blessed to have amazing family and friends, but I get really recharged when I have my alone time – hence the album title.

‘As I was continuing my journey through sobriety, I realised that I am very much an introvert’

I thought it would be an interesting topic and view to investigate, so from there I started to look at my relationships with my friends and, like most people, I have a little bit of judgement when it comes to people around me. I wanted to lean into that and talk about marriage and relationships – and not always the good parts.

I just wanted to be as honest as I could, but, besides the songs about my wife, I didn’t direct a song at any particular person – it was just a composite of a bunch of people in my life.

Did you write Troubled Heart for your wife?

SD: Yes, I did – absolutely.

That’s one of my favourite songs on the record – it has a jangly Americana sound, and I love the twangy, melodic guitar solo…

SD: That’s fair enough – if there was an R.E.M-esque song on the record, that would be the one, for sure.

Boomerang is a big song to start the record with – it doesn’t mess around… It has a ‘90s alt-rock feel…

 SD: At the time, I was listening to a lot of early Foo Fighters stuff – especially their first two records. I just love the sound of them and the energy. So, I was aiming for a Foo Fighters-esque sound, and Taylor Hawkins had just died, so I was having a deep dive and revisiting their early back catalogue – even before he was in the band.  I wanted to make a real driving, guitar-heavy track to open the record with and get your attention right away.

The first single, Brooklyn 97202, was written about your neighbourhood in SE Portland, wasn’t it?

SD: That’s right.

It came out last summer and it has a summery sound…

SD: Absolutely – the refrain of that song has summer in it quite a bit: ‘The colour’s back and don’t it feel good – summer light in the neighbourhood.’

I don’t necessarily believe in seasonal songs too much, but that one felt like it needed to be cranked up in the summer time, and I wanted to introduce the newer sound of the band, so I was adamant about getting it out months before the record dropped.

 

Shadow Life stands out – it’s an atmospheric ballad with a touch of ‘90s rock…

SD: I can’t quite recall where that song came from – it has a big bridge with thick guitars, and a soaring outro that’s very derivative – it’s what I love about ‘90s anthemic music. It lives in The Afghan Whigs’ world of creating atmosphere and a vibe. A lot of the songs were written during the pandemic, but I was purposely trying really hard not to have a ‘pandemic’ song – the last thing the world needed was an ‘alone together’ song. There was plenty of those out there…

The idea behind Shadow Life is that it’s about people like me who have had a self-awakening: ‘maybe this way of living is not exactly how I want it to be and here’s an opportunity to change it.’

‘A lot of the songs were written during the pandemic, but I was purposely trying really hard not to have a ‘pandemic’ song – the last thing the world needed was an ‘alone together’ song’

Beautiful Nothing is another atmospheric track, starting slow and very low-key, then building into an epic…

SD: Yeah – the ending was definitely influenced by Mogwai – those records that are big, thick and grungy. It’s two chords over and over again – it feels like a mudslide comin’ atcha!

The album ends with Inside Outside, which is the most stripped-back song on the record – it’s almost folky, and I like the line: ‘Mountains don’t give a fuck if I die…’

SD: (Laughs) Thank you.

Without sounding too much like a hippy, is that song about getting back to nature? It also deals with anxiety and it’s very honest and naked…

SD: It is about getting out to nature when you’re feeling moments of anxiety, but it’s almost the opposite of the hippy idea – it’s not that the trees are resonating with me or know what I’m feeling… When I go out to nature, it’s a very humbling experience – my problems don’t matter, because everything was here long before me and will be here for a long time after… I liked the idea of this pretty, folky melody with lyrics that you wouldn’t expect – ‘the ocean doesn’t give a fuck about me…’

‘I’m loving being a front person in this band – as much as it scares the shit out of me, it’s very gratifying’

Are you pleased with the record? I really liked your debut album, but I think this one is stronger…

SD: I’m extremely proud of this record – more so than my first album because of the collaborations involved. A lot of the things I love about it aren’t my parts – I love the drum tracks and the bass performances. I think the songs are much stronger – the big difference with this record is that with Axiom, I had rough sketches and I built the songs as I was tracking them and recording them, but with this album I sat and wrote all the songs on an acoustic guitar. I made sure that the songs were solid and could stand on their own. I started writing the songs in mid to late 2021 and we started tracking them by fall 2022 – I wanted to get in and capture the moment as soon as possible. I’ve been sitting on the album for a while.

With Axiom, I never intended to go out and play the songs live, but with this album I started entertaining the idea and thinking about how these songs would translate in-front of an audience.

I have a band of amazing players. First and foremost, we’re all friends – we love each other’s company. We like to hang out and play music in the basement. Every single person in the band has said at one point, ‘This reminds me of high school and being in the garage with my first band’ – it has that kind of energy. It’s great. I’m loving being a front person in this band – as much as it scares the shit out of me, it’s very gratifying.

Do you feel you’ve now settled into your role as a singer-songwriter? When we last spoke, you said you were insecure and uncomfortable putting yourself out there. Do you still have imposter syndrome?

SD: I do a little bit, but I certainly feel much more comfortable… I think I was validated with Axiom – the reach of the record went beyond just friends and family.  That gave me the confidence to say, ‘OK – maybe I can do this.’ I’ve been writing songs ever since I was a teenager, but I never had the opportunity or the confidence to put them out in-front of people. I am settling into the role quite comfortably now – especially having a few shows under my belt and getting the butterflies out. I’m really leaning into being 50 years old and being a professional musician for 30 years, but doing something that really scares me and that I have to work at. I think it’s a gift and I’m doing the work that I have to do to get better at it.

Steve Drizos in his home studio, June 2020. Photo by Jason Quigley.

Am I right in thinking you had singing lessons for this album?

SD: It wasn’t so much singing lessons… I worked with a vocal producer called Rebecca Sanborn and she was fantastic – she pushed me out of my comfort zone and into a voice and a range that I didn’t really think that I had. I was comfortable enough with her to take a chance and not be afraid or embarrassed. It didn’t sound very beautiful coming out of the gates – I’m not so sure it still sounds beautiful – but there’s an energy to it. She encouraged me to go for it and I think it really makes a difference on this record. I feel like the energy of my vocal performance matches the energy of the band, which is all I could ask for.

What’s the appeal of ‘90s rock to you? You’re a similar age to me – I turn 50 in March this year. Is it a nostalgia thing for people our age?

SD: People have asked me that question, so I spent some time analysing it: ‘Why am I drawn to it? Is it just nostalgia for that time in my life?’

‘The Bends was a huge influence that I kept going back to – it’s the most perfect record you could ever ask for’

It’s partly that, but when you put on those records, it’s coming out of the ‘80s production style, when everything was larger than life. The ‘90s still had a bit of that – drums were big and a little bit unnatural sounding, and guitars were layered… I like a record that takes me out of reality – I love folk music, but I want to be transported somewhere, so I love the energy of ‘90s rock.

I enjoyed a lot of the grunge bands, but for this record, The Bends [Radiohead] was a huge influence that I kept going back to – from beginning to end, it’s the most perfect record you could ever ask for.

It’s my favourite Radiohead album…

SD: It’s my favourite too. Every single song is fantastic – it’s before things got a little weird… I love it. I also like some of the early Gomez records, like Bring It On and Liquid Skin – I love that production style. It brings in samples and those kinds of elements. I like the early Fatboy Slim records too – they’re pretty rock ‘n’ roll. Those drums are massive!

Would you like to play shows in the UK and Europe?

SD: I would absolutely consider it but the reality is that it’s extremely expensive. It’s even hard in the States – playing with Jerry Joseph, who’s been an established artist for 30 years… For the bands that are playing 500-seat venues or less, it’s getting really hard to go out and make money. The price of everything else is going up, but the guarantees aren’t… As much as I would love to go to Europe, financially, it’s extremely difficult.

Is the Portland music scene healthy?

SD: It seems like it is. Embarrassingly, I’m not super in-tune with some of the younger bands, but there’s a fairly new band called Glitterfox that are fantastic – they’re really taking off right now. People are going out and supporting local bands – it’s not quite what it used to be, but it’s getting pretty darn close. Portland is a really special place – it’s not just music fans, but also the music community that goes out to support each other, which is a pretty rare thing in bigger music markets.

‘People are going out and supporting local bands – it’s not quite what it used to be, but it’s pretty darn close’

So, it’s bounced back after the pandemic?

SD: Fortunately, we didn’t lose too many music venues – besides the big arenas, we don’t have any Live Nation venues… All the 200-500 [capacity] venues are independent, they fought really hard to get government funding,  and the community supported them through the pandemic. It was time for the people of Portland to say, ‘This is important’, and they showed up for it.

Thanks for talking to me – I think the new album has a wider appeal than the first one, and it will be a word-of-mouth record that people get into…

SD: That’s so wonderful to hear – it would be a dream come true. I’ve put it out there and after that, it’s out of my control.

i love you now leave me alone is out now on Cavity Search Records.

www.stevedrizos.com

‘I like barroom songs and songs about f***ing up and creating chaos – I’ve done my share of that’

Nick Gamer

Suburban Cowboy, the debut solo album by Oregon singer-songwriter Nick Gamer, was one of my favourite albums of last year.

It was written during the Covid lockdown of 2020 and the peak of the West Coast’s wildfire season.

Reviewing it for Americana UK last summer, I said: ‘Set in a world of midnight truck stops and neon signs, Suburban Cowboy raises a glass to classic Americana and country, but every so often, Gamer slips in a shot of something extra that gives it a dark edge and keeps it fresh, like on Cenote Saloon, which is spacey, cinematic and psychedelic, with wonderful Lynchian twangy guitar, or the short, vaguely jazzy instrumental, Sidereal.’

‘Suburban Cowboy was one of my favourite albums of last year. It was written during the Covid lockdown of 2020 and the peak of the West Coast’s wildfire season’

I singled out some of the highlights, saying: ‘The ghost of Gram Parsons hangs over the barstool prayer, Midnight Angel, as well as the pedal steel and fiddle-laced trad country of Ballad of the Suburban Cowboy’, described Riverbed as a ‘raw and dark rocker, with thundering, doomy bass’ and said the widescreen Sedona, which is about driving all night through the Arizona desert, had shades of Springsteen and Jason Isbell.

I likened the stripped-down and intimate Any Neon Sign, which starts with the noise of a train, to early Ryan Adams, and said the mid-paced country rocker, Tennessee, had a similar feel, with Gamer, former guitarist for Japanese Breakfast and frontman of Le Rev, singing: ‘We drank our way from Memphis down to New Orleans – got kicked out of every honky tonk in-between.”

On Ballad of the Suburban Cowboy, he sings: “You can find me at a tavern, chasin’ bourbon with beer/ In some strip mall sprawl at the edge of the western frontier…”

But I tracked him down to his home in Eugene, and, in an exclusive chat – only his second interview ever – he told me about writing and recording his debut album, moving on from his chaotic twenties, getting away from where he grew up, the moody sound of Pacific North West country music and the crumbling American dream. 

Q&A

The album was written in 2020, during the Covid lockdown and the wildfire season. How was that?

Nick Gamer: There were six months of being locked down and then the wildfires came – it was sepia sky and a neon sun. It was bizarro – it felt like you were on Mars. The fires came up to just outside of Eugene. It was crazy – an apocalyptic feeling.

I was cooped up. I’ve been playing music in bands for 20 years and my friend was like, ‘Hey – you’ve never put out your own album’… so I took him up on that. I booked a date, with my friend Bryan [Wollen – producer], who’s up in Portland, and it forced me to write some songs.

So, all the songs on the record were new and written for it?

NG: They’re all new songs – I had all of them except for Sedona, Riverbed and Fever Valley Pitch

Those songs stand out because they’re the heavier, poppier or rockier tracks…

NG: Yeah – I thought that the record didn’t have singles. If I had a record label, they would probably have said I needed some three-minute, up-tempo songs, so I kind of had a writing project. The recording was delayed because of Covid – it happened in intervals, so it took a lot longer than we wanted, but those songs came later.

What was the studio like?

NG: Bryan calls his studio Cat/Man-Do – it’s an old office on the edge of Portland. There used to be this old town called Vanport, where all the black Americans lived, working on the docks. It got flooded – all the houses are up on stilts.

Bryan has this bizarre, abandoned office space which he turned into a studio house. It has a big basement and it’s right by the train tracks – you can hear a train on the record. He just stuck a microphone out of the window to get that.

You’ve got some guests on the record, including Bryan on guitar, drums and bass, Rick Pedrosa playing pedal steel, Lauren Hay on vocals, Jimmy “Jazz” Prescott on electric and upright bass, James West on drums and Garrett Brown on bass. Did you all meet up in the studio as a band to make the record?

NG: No. My buddy James, who is kind of like a hip-jop/jazz drummer, pulled in his buddy, Jimmy Prescott – he plays bass in G.Love & Special Sauce. I sent them the tracks. No rehearsal – we just went in the studio and went through all the songs in one day. We got a lot of them – they added a whole other flavour to the songs. The other songs Bryan and I single-tracked – he played drums and I tracked the rhythm guitar. There were a couple of different methods going on.

‘I’d been playing in indie bands, like Japanese Breakfast, but my last band, Le Rev, had a moody, cinematic sound – I love soundtracks’

The record has classic country influences, like Gram Parsons, The Flying Burrito Brothers and Emmylou Harris, but it’s also dark, edgy, cinematic, psychedelic and even slightly jazzy – it sometimes does things you’re not expecting it to. What did you want it to sound like?

NG: I’d been playing in indie bands, like Japanese Breakfast, but my last band, Le Rev, had a moody, cinematic sound – I love soundtracks. Growing up, I liked Eternal Sunshine… the John Brion stuff, so it was a combination of that and getting back to songwriting. I’d always wanted to write a more country album, so it just kind of came out like that – it’s me trying to write country.

Are you a big Gram Parsons fan?

NG: I didn’t get into country music until I was of drinking age – Bryan got me into it and and we had a country covers band that we played in bars with. It was like Sweetheart of the Rodeo – that album was the bridge. I think it was for a lot of people – then Gram Parsons. I got heavily into him and that led into everything else, like George Jones and all the rest of  ’em.

The album often has a barroom feel. On Pale Horse, you’re “roaming the streets, after the bars close, with no place to go…”

NG: A lot of the songs I like just happen to be barroom songs and songs about fucking up and creating chaos. I’ve done my share of that. The songs all come from an honest place.

‘A lot of the record is looking back on my chaotic twenties – that was wild and I’m moving forward from there’

I turned 30, then Covid happened and the next thing you know I’m in my mid-thirties… What the hell happened? A lot of the record is looking back on my chaotic twenties – that was wild and I’m moving forward from there.

Did you grow up in Eugene?

NG: I was born in Long Beach, California – we moved to Portland pretty soon after that. I grew up in Portland then we moved to Eugene when I was in grade school. As soon as I turned 18, I went back to Portland and pretty much played in bands for ten years.

I like to think of the sound of the record as Pacific North West country – it’s so moody out here and a lot of the bands that come from here have that darker edge.

Your song Sedona is about driving through the desert at night  it reminds me of Springsteen and Jason Isbell. It has a widescreen rock sound… 

NG: I was going for that purposefully. I wanted to write something that was simple and relatable – I don’t often try to write something that’s a little bit more poppy.

It’s a song about being stuck in the same place and trying to get away. I still live in the place I grew up, pretty much. It’s about picking a random spot on the map and just getting out – I feel the need to do that probably once a week.

That’s one of the themes of the album escaping from a small town…

NG: Yeah. It’s part of the concept it’s a bastardisation of Urban Cowboy. Thirty five to 40 years after Urban Cowboy, instead of all these oil workers dressing up as cowboys, there are people who work in minimum wage jobs in restaurants and are getting into country music, but they can’t afford to put a downpayment on a house in their own town because everything’s so expensive, with inflation and all that shit. It’s the crumbling American dream.

Any plans for a follow-up record? 

NG: I have another record that I’ve started recording in the same spot – Bryan’s studio.It’s going to be single-tracked – eight songs. It’s called Oregoner – it’s all Oregon-themed. It’s Americana / country stuff and it’s a compatible album with Suburban Cowboy.

When I wrote Suburban Cowboy, I didn’t have any parameters in mind – I just wrote. This has a little bit more structure and I’ve been sitting on the songs a lot longer.

Will Oregoner come out this year?

NG: Absolutely. I’m hoping to record a couple of albums and put at least one out. 

‘I have another record that I’ve started recording. It’s called Oregoner – it’s all Oregon-themed’

Are you a prolific songwriter?

NG: I try to write every day. It’s so easy to put an album out now, but you want people to get as much out of them as they can. I like to do a couple of tours, send an album out and see what happens, but you don’t want to do that too much, because if you get too caught up in it, you stop writing music. 

Suburban Cowboy by Nick Gamer is out now (Professional Guest Records).