The Wood Brothers perform at Salina’s Stiefel Theatre on Thursday, July 17, as part of a co-headlining bill with St. Paul & The Broken Bones.
Both acts draw on traditions informed by soul and gospel music, though the eight-piece Alabama-based and horn-drenched latter group stands in fair contrast to the guitar/bass/drums and vocals approach of The Wood Brothers.
Featuring brothers Oliver (guitar, vocals) and Chris Wood (bass, vocals) and percussionist/multi-instrumentalist Jano Rix, The Wood Brothers will issue their latest LP, “Puff of Smoke” on August 1. The songs are informed by a sly sense of humor that’s tempered with compassion and hope. As ever, the group surprises listeners with unexpected musical settings on songs that feel as though they’ve been in the ether for centuries.
Oliver Wood recently spoke with KMUW about the making of the new LP, how he and his brother benefited from pursuing different musical styles early on, and how he deals with the more difficult moments of touring.
The following interview has been edited for length and clarity.
My understanding is that for this record, the three of you said, “We have this shared musical history, let’s not overthink. Here’s some chords, here’s some lyrics. Let’s see what happens.”
Any time we go into the studio and we’re making a record, it’s all over the place in terms of, “Well, this song is about done and maybe we got to practice it a few times and I think we know what we’re doing. This song over here is like a seed. It’s just some words and some chords like you said.” Things are in all different stages of finished or unfinished and when we get to the studio, one way or another, it just all comes together because it has to. We have a little window, sometimes it’s good to have limitations and deadlines.
Also, like you said, we’ve learned to trust that whatever’s not prepared will sort of happen in the moment and it always does. It’s always a pleasant surprise.
I think there’s a sense here too of, “The only rule is that there aren’t rules.” There are sounds here that are may unexpected.
Absolutely. That’s a good way to put it: Throw the rules out the window. A lot of times we don’t know what we’re going to do but we know what we’re not going to do. We’re going to cross a lot of things off the list: “No, we’ve already done that. No, that sounds like something else we’ve heard.” We’re always just searching for sounds and ways to make something that’s new to us and feels fresh and fun and doesn’t necessarily fit in anywhere.
Your records, especially these latter ones, have this real relaxed sense to them. Can you tell me a little bit about the environment you’re recording in and that importance of being relaxed.
We’ve been blessed to basically have our own studio space for the last seven years now that we’ve had this space where we’ve done all our recording. That certainly has something to do with it. It’s a very fully formed and complete place but some studios can be a little sterile, formal and you feel like you don’t want to break anything or make a mess. Ours is like a big clubhouse where we can just hang out and make a mess, both creatively and literally.
We have this great engineer, Brook Sutton, who runs the studio when we’re not around. He makes records with other people but that is our homebase and it’s our clubhouse. We have this great rapport with him and with the building. It’s like this great laboratory. We can just experiment. We’re not watching the clock all the time like when you rent a fancy studio.
There’s this sense across many of the songs on this record, this reminder that life can really drive you crazy if you let it and so you need to let go and be in the moment.
I think you’re right. We always find that when we make a record we’re never thinking, “This record and these songs are going to be about this topic.” Our publicist always asks, “What’s this record about? How we gonna talk about it?” I think we’re always surprised by how subconsciously there are themes that run through the record and they truly are subconscious until the record comes together.
But I think you hit on the head. I think what we as grown humans in the world are doing, and it’s not unique to us, is that we’re learning how to cope with a stressful world. Family things, world things, everyday things, people suffering and gratitude, inner peace, you name. We’re always thinking about: How do you meditate? How do you get through things? How do you help other people? All of those things come out in the songs because that’s what we’re working on in life and it tends to be reflected in the music.
There’s always been a sense of humor in your music and on this album I think of the song “The Trick,” where the problem is that you still care. Once you stop caring, you’re relieved of that burden and you can actually start to perform acts of caring.
Right. It’s easier said than done but it’s actually the way to do it. I like a little bit of humor and cynicism. I’m a huge fan of John Prine and Randy Newman, where there’s some depth and even some sadness to sort of break it up. They always say that there’s a fine line between comedy and tragedy.
For people who don’t know there’s a slight age difference between you and your brother and my understanding is that you didn’t play much together when you were younger. It was only some years later that you reconnected and realized that there was a real chemistry there.
In general, yeah. I’m four years older and we both started playing music as teenagers and we did actually play together a little bit. As the older brother, I remember teaching Chris the 12-bar blues progression. He ended up being a much more serious [about practicing] and [became a more] focused musician in the long run. Then, like you said, we went our separate ways. We grew up in Colorado but he went to the Northeast to Boston and then New York. I moved to Atlanta and for the next 15 years we really had very separate lives personally and musically.
The advantage of that was that we were able to grow up and form our own individual personalities and identities. Then we were thrown into a situation where both of our bands played a show together. His was Medeski, Martin and Wood, mine was the lesser-known King Johnson. I got to sit in with their band and we had such a good time and such an amazing connection that it was a way for us to reconnect. We had shared history but we had both learned a lot of things along the way that we could teach each other.
Was he immediately dancing when you started playing shows together?
[Laughs.] No. I don’t know where that came from. I just remember that one day he just spontaneously busted out dancing and was just feeling joyful. It was liberating for him I think and so entertaining for whoever was watching that he kept doing it.
I think we forget sometimes that there’s so much motion to music, not just in the playing but in the experience of it.
Absolutely. Even listening to music. So many of us listen on headphones and it’s not a full experience. You really do listen to music with your whole body. When you go to a concert, your whole body is getting hit by sound and it feels it and it wants to move.
You’re out on the road with St. Paul and The Broken Bones. There’s some overlap with influences and styles and some differences. Is it a perk when you get to be on bills with other acts where there’s a sense of commonality?
It’s a joy. Especially when there is some overlap in style but not too close. There’s enough difference where you’re sort of curious and fascinated about the other band but there’s enough in common where you speak the same language. That’s the beautiful thing about being a musician: You know a language that’s not just anybody’s so it’s kind of a club. Then, when you meet other serious musicians you immediately have something in common and something to share and something to learn and something to teach. I really like these guys. We like them as people and their music is fantastic too.
Obviously, when you’re on tour, there’s going to be a day when there’s some kind of complication. I’m not wishing this on you but the bus breaks down ….
Sure. Oh yeah.
Or there’s a delay with plane.
I’ve seen it all.
How do you let go of that before you get on stage and face people who may have no idea what’s been going on with you?
That’s a good question. You’re absolutely right. Sometimes it’s something very stressful like that and other times you’re just burnt out and you’re tired and you have to be on. You can’t phone it in. Whether there is a stressor involved or you’re tired, I think the best answer for me is, and it sounds cheesy, but a gratitude because a lot of times when you’re stressed out playing music is the best possible outlet. It’s the best way to deal with it.
The other thing is, let’s say you’re lonely and you miss home, which I feel like that a lot, or you just don’t feel energized, well then the crowd is there and they are full of energy for you. Just connecting with other peoples’ energy is what it’s all for. We realize that our job is actually important because need it. The music is a real positive thing that kind of breaks down a lot of barriers between people. You imagine that in a crowd of a thousand or two thousand people there are probably people with different politics and religions and ideas about other people but when they’re there and we’re all singing along to the same song or dancing or whatever, none of that stuff matters. Just thinking about that and considering the gratitude for that will turn things around pretty quickly.
