The dutchman's not the
kind of man who keeps his thumb jammed in the dam that holds his dreams
in...
Michael Peter Smith, from "The Dutchman"
If singer-songwriters form a kind of river of song, there
are streams that flow into that single, universal body of water. The streams
they follow serve the songs they write. Some are cowboys, some would-be beat
poets; others are philosophers, political commentators, or comic storytellers.
Michael
Peter Smith has followed many different streams that have led him to become one
of the finest songwriters of the last 40 years. His songs reflect his
admiration for the other art forms he's encountered in his life. He could be
compared to a great writer of American literature, an abstract painter, a
playwright, or a sculptor.
Most
recognizable as the writer of the classic "The Dutchman," originally covered by
Steve Goodman and later by Suzy Boguss, Jerry Jeff-Walker, and Tom
Russell, he has created a body of work that's as diverse as it is skillfully
crafted.
He moved to
Chicago in the '70s to become a part of the singer-songwriter scene, which
included John Prine and Steve Goodman. He became well known for his songs. But,
his most notable success came in 1987 when he was asked to write the music for
Steppenwolf Theater's production of The
Grapes of Wrath, which went on to international success. He has also
produced music for a children's theater production of The Snow Queen, a play he continues to work on for his own
satisfaction.
During an
hour-long phone interview Smith demonstrated the kind of storytelling that
makes his songs so rich. The love not only for his music but also for the music
he finds among the friends he's made along the way.
San Diego Troubadour:
What's been happening with you today,
Michael?
Michael Smith:
I've been recording. I'm working on two records right now. Lately, I've been
doing theater also. It's really similar to concerts, only you get to stay in
the same place longer. There've been a couple of other musicals I've worked on.
Right now it's a musical version of The
Snow Queen. It's been presented at a local theater for four or five years
now, at Christmas, for five weeks at a time.
SDT: How did you come upon that?
MS: Well, writing
it was what needed to happen. I've done other kinds of work, but I actually
started on The Snow Queen 20 years
ago. It was no problem for me. I love the story. I've loved Hans Christian
Andersen since I was a kid.
SDT: So, it seems like your approach to your
theater work is progressive? Is this the same for your songwriting?
MS: Yes, it's
similar to songwriting. It's what makes a song reasonable. This is just
getting more and more narrow.
SDT: You've mentioned studio work.
MS: I've been at
it all of the time. I have a studio at home that allows me to do that. The
problem is I can't reproduce what's going on with a recording.
SDT: The Sgt. Pepper Syndrome?
MS: Yeah. Take
Les Paul. He was a unique character in music history. He was always pursuing
music. His work in recording made it possible for millions of musicians to be
able to make their own recordings. Once I start recording, I don't want to do
anything else. I can write a song, record it, re-record it, try something new.
It's like a painting. I listen and start thinking "what can I do with this
to add to it?"
When I
first heard sound-on-sound and two-track recording, it changed everything with
the possibilities that were there. I think I first heard it in 1965. I don't
think I understood that at the time. For me, at least, it started to be like
jazz. I could start something but I had no idea how it was going to
sound.
SDT: Do you play all the instruments?
MS: Yes, except
drums. If I tried that I'd be there for years. I use a drum machine. I use it
for the drive.
SDT: What about your songwriting process? I've
asked this of many of the songwriters I've interviewed and everyone has
something unique to say.
MS: Yes. I'd
imagine. For me it's a phase kind of thing. It might start with a title. But,
if I follow the title it gets limited. It's like going back and dating a girl
from high school only to find out how shallow she's become. Going from the
title can be surface. I also may look for a mood. Sometimes, it's the mood. I
want to be true to myself in the song and not really write it for anyone else.
There was a period in the '80s when I played with a band and they wanted things
to be "hooky." Hooky is okay for some people. But, it makes me not able to
write as well. If I let go of the pursuit of the hook, then I'm free. You know,
you shouldn't have your eyes on the prize even though that's what we're taught
to do.
SDT: So, the song is the prize, but the trip is
of equal or more importance than the reward?
MS: Yes. So many
people say you can play the music, but you gotta have something to fall back
on. I don't really like that because it makes the music subordinate to
something that may seem larger. My dad used to say things like that. Sometimes
I wished he'd have said, "If you're going to play the music, go out and do it,
damn it! Learn to play the guitar! Don't just pose like Elvis in front of the
mirror!"
SDT: So you're anti-hook in terms of songwriting?
MS: Yeah, we were
poisoned with the emphasis on having hits. I had to to get to the point where I
didn't care who liked what I wrote. I had to write it for me. Then, it turned
out for the best because those were the songs that reached out to the audience.
Those were the ones they liked. I never have a true understanding of it. But,
it's just fantastic. And it comes from making a lot of mistakes along the way.
But, at its best, we're giving something that helps the audience get rid of all
of the crap they carry. For me, being a musician is just heaven.
SDT: And it's like you're bringing your heaven to
earth!
MS: Bless you! I
hope so. I know what happened to me when I first heard Sgt. Pepper. It felt
like heaven; it just didn't get any better than that. I can still listen to it
for hours.
SDT: I noticed you've been writing songs for
children.
MS: Yes. I see
such innocence from them. I was raised Catholic. Man, religion is a lot to lay
on a kid. Original sin, man. Fear. That's one of the big Catholic mistakes.
It's so damaging for a kid. I've found, as I've played for the kids, they just
come and sit at my feet. You know, they're not charmed by me, I'm just an old
guy. The thing is, I haven't frightened them. They're not thinking about me at
all. I get to watch them for a while. It's a thrill. It's a feeling that just
comes over you that can't be counterfeited. It's like my soul relaxes.
SDT: Have your songs changed over time?
MS: You know,
they grow. There's this growth where I can tell, as I've gotten older, my
writing has improved.
SDT: Dylan talks about how his songs change as he
plays them in concert and it becomes a kind of performance art. I know he's
long past his prime, but he keeps on going.
MS: Yes. I think,
by him being past his prime, you mean he's not as popular. Today, some of the
songs you hear him do in concert are almost unrecognizable. Well, today we're
not nearly as shocked by him as we were when he sang, lines like "with your
wine, your amphetamines, and your pearls..." or the "ghost of electricity." But,
I like him and relate to him. He's like Picasso. Today he's more abstract. As
time went by, he became harder and harder to understand. You look at his work
and think "is this the same person?" In a way, the same thing has happened with
Dylan. He does like 200 shows a year. It gets harder and harder to understand
what he's doing. But, there's no one who comes close to him. He's just way
ahead of the rest of us.
SDT: Yes. And it seems that you and many other
singer-songwriters who emerged form the late '60s have become deeper and more
profound.
MS: Maybe I've become
less foolish. Fewer foolish moves and foolish songs. We may write better today.
We haven't indulged in as much foolishness or mistakes. A lot of writers tend
to write a series of songs and they all sound the same. When I write songs now,
I think, "How can I do this?" It sounds nothing like the last song I
wrote.
SDT: Have you been writing new songs these
days?
MS: Well, I
write, but not as much as before. You know the Love Letter on a Fish record is one of two recorded at the same
venue. But, it represents over 30 years of songwriting - the best songs I've
written. I write many songs I wouldn't share with anyone.
SDT: Have you worked with John Prine?
MS: Not really.
I've opened for him. You know who he reminded me of? Charles Bronson.
SDT: [Laughs] That's different! Have you told John that?
MS: No. I never
have. I mean, he's a tough guy.
SDT: It's hard for me to see Prine in a black
wool cap in a New York Subway with a gun, shooting bad guys!
MS: [Laughs]
Maybe I should explain that. It's not like the Bronson from Death Wish. It's John's confidence. He
has this undoubted sense of himself. There's this strength about him. He's his
real self without trying to be someone else.
He doesn't
question himself. He's more rooted than I am. I get around him and feel like
I'm dancing or something [laughs]. I did a show with him and he asked me to
come out and play a song with him.
SDT: "Paradise?"
MS: Yeah,
"Paradise." I learned it as I stood beside him; he had this energy I've rarely
felt from a performer. I've encountered it also with Arlo Guthrie. I mean,
he's a giant at the piano. I played with him at the Steve Goodman Memorial
Concert. He's this strength on stage.
SDT: Tell me about your relationship with Steve.
MS: He was a
friend. He was a great performer. He was totally in the music. Even physically,
he was a playing-singing machine. He was so bright. He could just write a song
on the spot. I'd come in with eight lines and he'd finish up the song. You'd
give him an idea and within a few minutes he'd have a song ready. He simply
liked performing. We wrote a lot of songs together. I enjoyed everything we did
together. He was lively, ingenious, full of joy and purpose. His personality
came through his songs and the audience loved his personality. But, it didn't
always translate in other mediums.
SDT: Like records?
MS: I don't think
the vitality he exhibited was ever caught in the studio.
SDT: Well, before we finish, we've got to talk
about "The Dutchman."
MS: I'd love to
talk about "The Dutchman." Around that time I was writing pretty crappy songs.
It was the first song I wrote where I thought, "this is a good song." Writing a
song is a journey. ...You know, as you travel, you may make big mistakes on the
way to getting there ... you might get lost. But, on "The Dutchman," I didn't get
lost. Early, as I started writing it, I knew I was making something unique. It
was totally mine. There's this calm that comes over you when you write like
this. It's rare. It was so good, I kept trying to catch it again. I kept
thinking there's all kinds of ways to get there. It was the first time I
encountered that feeling. I found this rhythm pattern similar to "Gentle on My
Mind," which reminded me of a French song.
SDT: What inspired you to write "The Dutchman?"
MS: At first, I
wanted to write something for my sister, Margaret. You know, she was dating a
Dutch guy at the time. As I wrote the first line, I realized, this is not about
young people; it's about old people. You know, an awful lot of writing a song like
"The Dutchman" is about luck. It's like you're casting your bread upon the
waters. And you know, I still like that. I wouldn't change it. But, a song like
that comes around once in a lifetime.
SDT: It seems like, from what you've said about
how your music, plays, art, "The Dutchman" is a kind of capsule of all of that.
MS: That's
interesting. It is kind of spiritual. You know, not reaching for it. Letting it
happen. I have a friend, Corky Siegal. He's really into meditation. He told me
about this guru he was seeing. He was some big swami or something. Corky's
really into it. He got me to recite this sentence. We were in between sets at a
show. He led me through the phrase. I got as a high as a kite! It was an acidy
experience. But, I tried again later to do the same phrase and experience the
same thing, and it's never happened again. But, it's like one of life's little
gifts. "The Dutchman" is like that. We may live the rest of our lives and it
may never happen again. My dad used to say, "We are too soon oldt and too late
schmardt [too soon old, too late smart]." As I've gotten older though, I've
become more industrious. I mean, I'm 68, so I'd better get to it.
SDT: Yes, we're all running out of time.
MS: You know,
that song Dylan did back in the '90s. "It's not dark yet, but it's getting
there." It's like that. When I heard that, I thought what the...? I was so
impressed. These days though, I like to listen to doo-wop. It's nice to get in
the car and listen to something from 1958.
SDT: On that note, thanks for your time. I look
forward to seeing you at Jimmy Duke's.
MS: Thank you.
It's been a pleasure.
See Michael Smith in
concert on Sunday, March 28, 7:30pm, at Jimmy Duke's House Concert venue in
Lakeside. Reservations: (619) 443-9622.