Constant Creating: k.d. lang
by Daniel J. Levitin
[This is a modified and expanded version of the article originally appearing in Grammy Magazine, December 1992.]
I'm sitting in k.d. lang's front yard, in the Hollywood Bowl neighborhood of Los Angeles, watching the birds foraging for food while a police helicopter circles in the distance. It's 1:00, the appointed time for our interview, and a hundred degrees outside. At ten minutes after one, k.d. pulls up, riding what is at once the most beautiful and the fiercest-looking Harley I've ever seen in my life. It has chrome everywhere in several layers - even the chrome has chrome. And it is painted a sort of Packard green that makes me think of the thirties.
"It's not real old," she says, in response to my appropriately enthusiastic ooh-ing and ah-ing. "I just made it look like that."
"What do you mean?"
"It's brand new, but I put all this chrome on it, and I painted it this old color." She takes off her helmet. "I'm sorry I'm late."
Relaxed and athletic-looking, wearing a grey Gap t-shirt and jeans, she invited me in to her house and poured us both a glass of water to assuage the heat. What I can see of the house is sparesly furnished. A bed and nightstand in her bedroom, and in the living room a single table with three chairs. Her bookshelf has only three books - a dictionary, a telephone book and a crossword puzzle dictionary. While she pours the water, I study her remarkably eclectic CD collection - The Carpenters, Mahalia Jackson, Milt Jackson, Chris Isaak, Patsy Cline, Anne Murray, Vera Linn, Jobim, Percy Faith Themes for Latin Lovers, Shirley Horn, Sheila Jordan, The Best of Ballroom Dancing, Leonard Jackson, Marlena Dietrick, Malcolm McLaren...
k.d. is enjoying a new kind of success as "Constant Craving" hit number one on the adult contemporary charts, and on the day we met it was climbing it's way up the Top 100. Her new album "Ingénue" deftly transcends genres and is a clear landmark in the 30-year old Canadian's career. The album finds Lang more personal and introspective, and the songs provide a rich showcase for her seraphic vocals. Musically, the album creates novel textures throught the use of unusual instrument combinations, employing accordion, violin, vibes and foregoing drums on all but three tracks.
k.d. and I sat on her front porch most of the afternoon, watching birds and talking about her creative process.
DL: Do you keep a schedule and try to write every day or do you write whenever inspiration hits?
KDL: Well, one things is, I never write when I'm on the road. When I'm ready to make another record, I block off some time and I get into a real introspective mode. I start taking long walks, thinking. We - Ben Mink and I - set up a studio wherever we are, with pretty primitive equipment, maybe 8 or 16 track equipment, whatever we can get; we don't get too elaborate - and we write in there. For Ingénue we wrote the whole thing in my apartment in Vancouver.
We try to keep a schedule - like we'll be in at 3 every day, and we write whether we feel like it or not. If you're not feeling particularly creative, it's good to have a partner, because we work as catalysts for each other. If one person's feeling particularly creative the other person can go for a walk, or the other one can kick them in the butt and start them up. Sometimes if we're not feeling creative, we'll go to a movie, or we'll go CD shopping. But we'll do something that feeds the writing.
One of the biggest things about being a writer is that you have to realize everything you're doing is working, as long as you can apply it to what you want to do. Going for a walk is very important, going CD shopping is important. You have to keep in mind that everything you do has to be for your writing. That was one of the biggest hurdles that I overcame as a writer.
DL: So you only write when you're in "writing mode," working on an album?
KDL: Pretty much, yeah.
DL: What if you get an idea while you're riding your horse?
KDL: (lowers her voice and looks a little sheepish) I don't actually ride horses.
DL: Well, okay, what if you're taking a walk, or riding your Harley and an idea just pops in your head.
KDL: I make a mental note of it.
DL: Do you have a little dictophone that you carry around?
KDL: No, and I never write anything down. I don't really keep a log, like a writer's log of any lyrics or any song titles ever when I'm travelling. I just make a mental note. I really let my body and my soul act as a filter and do the editing. I let everything get stored in my body as data and let whatever goes in emerge on its own time and place.
DL: So the good ideas pop out eventually.
KDL: Exactly.
DL: How do the songs come together in your writer's studio?
KDL: We write the basic skeleton of a song together and we try to eliminate our learned knowledge and really write from a gut level, from an instinctual level. From sort of a naive place. When we're finished with the basic musical format of the song, Ben will start demo-ing and arranging it, and I'll go off and write the lyrics and the melody. Then we might start applying our knowledge. But for the actual conception of the song, we try to be very open.
DL: So you never write the lyrics first...
KDL: No. Sometimes I might have an idea for a song title or a song theme, but I never get a set of lyrics and write a song to it. I find that very difficult.
Did you see that (pointing)? That's a woodpecker.
DL: Are you sure? It kind of looks like a scrub jay to me.
KDL: But the beak is longer than a scrub jay's.
DL: Are you talking about that one right there? (pointing).
KDL: Yeah. Well I can tell you for sure. I've got a book inside. Do you want me to go get it?
DL: Yes, let's do that a little later. You said Ben demos it the songs -
KDL: Yeah, he adds a lot of the parts...Also, I write a lot of the instrumental lines, the accordian parts. But he's more patient and he writes parts on the violin; he basically does the arrangements, but really, we both come up with the parts.
DL: Where do you find artistic inspiration? Do you read books, lyrics?
KDL: I don't. I only read three things, the dictionary, graffiti and the yellow pages. I don't have the patience to sit and look at a page in a book and read. My concentration just can't handle it. I don't read anyone's lyrics, except Joni's [Mitchell] but who else's is there? I'm not a reader. Who's to say that I won't become one but I haven't been for the last thirty years.
My inspiration comes from nature. From looking at animals, salamanders, birds, trees. I like watching how nature deals with situations, I find it really applicable to how we are. Like the salamander can sit on a rock and pretend that he's invisible and not move and some people like to think of themselves as invisible. And it's funny how it can parallel an emotional situation that you're going through.
For me, nature provides a good way to use imagery and some nice metaphors for how people are. I would include in all this human nature - people are fun to watch if you're not judgmental, but just absorb the interaction between human beings.
I take long walks. Every day during Ingénue I walked in Vancouver, which is a beautiful place to walk.
DL: But down here, in LA...where do you walk here?
KDL: There's places, in the hills. Nature's everywhere - there's ants, birds, trees, here in my yard. I bike. And films are good for me, foreign films.
DL: Thinking films.
KDL: Yeah, thinking films.
DL: Are you a loner?
KDL: Absolutely. Well, there's a part of me that's an absolute loner, but I enjoy the social thing, too. (Thinks a minute.) I'm changing my answer from the first thing I said. I am a loner, because you know, I enjoy doing things that are for one person, like walking or biking. But there's a social side to me. I don't go to parties or anything, but I enjoy my friends.
Now that one there is definitely a scrub jay.
DL: Definitely. [We watch as the scrub jay perches on one of K.D.'s two huge feeders, hanging from the roof and overflowing with bird seed. They jay is a sloppy eater, and seeds go flying out in all directions.]
K.D. They're so cocky.
DL: Yes, they're fearless.
KDL: They think they can just spill seeds everywhere. And right in the middle of an interview. Are you getting all this down?
DL: Yes. (Writing) "Jay is spilling seeds everywhere." Two of your countrymates who are songwriters have talked about almost opposite songwriting styles. Joni Mitchell said that she labors over her lyrics, and goes back over them - sometimes for months - honing them to get them just right. In contrast, Neil Young told me once that he feels it is important, when you're writing a song, to go from the beginning to the end without stopping; that if you go back later to touch it up, it will always feel different.
KDL: It goes off in a different direction, yeah.
DL: Which style do you use?
KDL: I'm in between. I used to be like Neil, where I would just refuse to change my stream of consciousness work, because I thoguhtt hat was pure. But now, I'm a little bit like Joni, where I'll go back and I'll see if I can polish up a word, or just switch a word around. I analyze it a little bit. Or if a word doesn't sing easily I might switch it or find a new phrasing for it, but I don't work on it too hard.
DL: So, for example?
KDL: Well, on Season of Hollow Soul I laboured over the line "sour the fruit of neglect," I was looking for the word fruit for a long time. That seems funny now because the word is so simple, but I couldn't find it. I wanted something that sours, but that's also sweet, something that was a product of a process...I searched for fruit for about four or five hours and all of a sudden it came to me. The song is built around the whole essence of a tree, so that fit well. Another one was in "The Mind of Love" where it says "Where is your head, Katherine." I really wondered whether I wanted to use "Kateherine" because to use your own name in a song is kind of weird.
DL: I've got to tell you though, that's my favorite part of the song. I think it's cool.
KDL: Yeah, well I asked Ben, that's what I do when I have a problem usually. So I said "do you think this is like, really queer or really geeky to say 'where is your head, Katherine,'" and he said "no, I think it's really vulnerable and really good."
DL: What it does for the listener is it calls the listener back into realizing it's about you and that's nice. Because so many times when we listen to a great song we think it's about us.
KDL: Yeah...
DL: ... And we think, "oh yeah, I feel that way," and "the reason I like this song is because it's explaining how I feel." And it's this nice pull back...
KDL: mm-hmm...
DL: ...a reminder that you wrote it about you. It makes it more intimate.
KDL: Yes, I'm really glad I did it now.
DL: And to use Katherine instead of k.d. makes it even more personal, because I imagine that's how you think of yourself.
KDL: Well, Katherine is my more feminine side, and it's more like what my mother uses when she's made at me. So it's a very private side to say Katherine.
DL: There are a couple of other songs where the songwriter uses their name.
KDL: Yeah, there's Billie's Blues by Billie Holiday, ooh, there's that one where Roy Orbison goes "makes old Roy..."...
DL: Paul Simon did it too. "Went to my doctor yesterday/She said Paul you better look around..." Also the line "Are you ready, Freddie" in Queen's Crazy Little Thing Called Love.
KDL: Yeah, that's cool. I think Joni used it too when she sang "Jonah and the ticking whale."
DL: Yes, she obviously knew what she was doing when she wrote that, that her name and Jonah sound so much alike.
There's another line of yours I really like, in The Mind of Love: "I'm trying hard to escape/this constant pull toward ache." The word ache is so good there...
KDL: And it could be either positive or negative ache. As an artist, I like to have some sort of emotional intensity to stimulate me. Although you try to escape some of the pain associated with that, you don't really want to. Part of it, of course, is the ache and pain of love. Love hurts as much as it feels good - that's really what Ingénue is about. I would say love is the basis for all art. Love is the most powerful force there is, and I think all art stems from that.
DL: (pauses to think) Do you really think that's true? What about Salvidore Dali's "Persistence of Memory," with all the warped clocks. Is that based on love?
KDL: Well think about it. He had to be remembering something.
DL: Right.
KDL: Whether it's love of God, or love of someone else, or love of nature or even love of yourself, that is what all art is about. It's powerful. I really do believe that.
DL: (pointing) What is that?
KDL: I think that's a finch of some kind.
DL: Mm-hmm. Oh, but look, he's got a bit of crest. Could it be a warbler?
KDL: No, I think it's a finch.
DL: Are there any songs you've heard that you really wish you had written?
KDL: There's a zillion-thousand-infinite number of songs I wish I had written - I wish I had written Happy Birthday.
DL: You mean because of the royalties you would've gotten?
KDL: NO! NO! From an artistic point of view. There's so many songs I wish I had written - there are so many genius songs, too many to mention. I find that as I get older and as I change, a song that I hated last week and I just broke up with somebody will become my favorite song. It's just a matter of timing and how a song touches you.
DL: What's the last song you heard you wished you had written?
KDL: Don't Smoke In Bed. Written by Willard Robinson; Peggy Lee sings it.
DL: And you like the Carpenters - have you heard their boxed set?
KDL: Mmmm, delicious.
DL: People give me a lot of shit for liking the Carpenters, they're supposed to be so unhip.
KDL: They're not! They're the best group ever.
DL: And her pipes!
KDL: She's one of the best singers ever.
DL: My friend Jeff Kimball will die when he hears about this.
KDL: I love the Carpenters, and they've been a big influence.
DL: I'm not crazy about the song Sing.
KDL: No, I don't really like the song Sing.
DL: But Rainy Days and Mondays...
KDL: (whew) Great. And their version of Superstar. So even the fact that she changed the line "to sleep with you again" to "to be with you again," I like that, you know? 'Cause she took from Rita Coolidge's and Leon Russell's version and made it hers. I remember Rita Coolidge singing it. (Sings like Rita Coolidge) "Long ago, and oh so far away..."
DL: Is there a song of yours that you're suprised you wrote? Something that seems much better than you thought you could do?
KDL: I feel that way about all of them; it's hard for me to believe that I wrote any of them. There's some dogs, but I'm very fond of "Pulling Back the Reigns" and "Wallflower Waltz." But it's hard, I don't even know that they're mine. Because really you're just a channel, aren't you? The surprise isn't because I think any of my songs are so great, it's just a surpise that I could do it. Even that I'm able to finish a song.
DL: To what extent are images of celebrities manipulated through marketing and such?
KDL: I think that really depends on the artist.
DL: In your case, how much of your public personality and personna are manipulated?
KDL: It really depends. I don't even know if it's manipulated. It's just an exaggeration of a feeling that I have. I don't have people saying "you should dress like this or this." I have friends who say "you would look good in this," and I listen to the people that I trust at the record company like Carl Scott, and think of them as artists, artists at what they do. I'm very lucky to be at Warner Brothers and I'm very happy to be there. They let me be myself. And they signed me as a "development" artist, they didn't sign me thinking that I was going to produce hits for them right away. I think if an artist has a strong enough vision and a strong enough focus of what they are, then there's no need to manipulate it. Prince is a good example.
I think the record company really has two different functions, to make money and to develop artists. And I happen to be lucky that they've let me develop.
DL: Lots of music fans think about the artist, "what is she really like." And in some sense, they have a lot to go on, but in another sense, the artist actually gets to control for the most part the window through which everybody sees them. You only have to let us see what you want us to.
KDL: I'm not sure that we're that capable of knowing where we should place that window. I think this goes for all artists, but I think we're all just trying to do our best. Even if some people look like they're being really commercial and manipulative and just doing it for the money, ultimately it all stems from the right place. I think the need to create and the want to create comes from a very pure and innocent place. And you're not really in control of where you place the window, you place it where you can handle it. So if it's easier to be formulaic and stay the same, that could just be the easiest way for them to adapt to their celebrity.
DL: You wonder though if some artists project an image that really isn't them. Like Lennon projecting an image as the raggety hippie, and yet it turns out he was totally into material things and actually hoarded lots and lots of stuff. Or Springsteen trying so hard to project this working class image when in fact he's a millionaire several times over. Is he really the common man or is that a facet of him?
KDL: Well I think that's a very good question and I've heard theories about it. There are two ways to look at this. One is, when you're physically ill there's an occasion when you crave what you're trying to get rid of - sugar, or salt or alcohol. And another theory is that the emotional make up of a musician actually has a black hole where music should be and they create to try to make up for that. That's a theory that has been recently put forth. So it's interesting - maybe we try to be exactly what we're not. But then there are instances where you crave exactly what you need, so I don't know! I don't really have the answers to that.
You have to realize, Dan, that image is a form of art. It really is, a performance art. It is an extension of the musical art. Prince's clothes probably influence his music.
DL: When I think of you I imagine you having a ranch in Canada...
KDL: Yeah, I do...
DL: My vision of k.d. lang is that she's wearing chaps and riding horses through the open countryside all the time...So seeing you with a place in LA is jarring...
KDL: I like LA because I grew up in a small town for seventeen years, and to be a city that's so vibrant and so manic is really interesting to me. I also need the balance, so I have a farm in Vancouver when I need to chill, and when I need an urban assault I come to L.A.
DL: For awhile, I guess, you were considered a country artist.
KDL: Yeah, I spent some time there. I grew up with country and it was natural. Maybe because of my upbringing, I also saw the sense of humor of country, the kitsch-ness of country and that attracted me to it. And I also felt I had some legitimacy to sing country because I grew up with it.
DL: I'm glad you mentioned the kitschiness, because the thing about your country records is that they were never mainstream country, there was always something subversive about them. You're right, it's the humor you brought to it. That approach brought you fans from an alternative base, I think, much as what happened with The Stray Cats ten years ago. Or Elvis Costello.
KDL: Absolutely, that's exactly right. There is a progressive edge that you add to a traditional style of music. They lumped us all into that "new traditionalist" movement, Dwight and Lyle and I, Nancy Griffith, K.T. Oslin, Steve Earle - anybody that was a little odd they'd lump into this new traditionalist category. But we're all quite different. What you nedd to have is a historical awareness of your relationship to the music but you also have to be progressive and add something to it.
DL: That is something you all have in common. Then there are the new traditionalists who really are traditionalists - Randy Travis, Ricky Skaggs...
KDL: Well, I didn't want to be a traditionalist because I didn't see country music that way and I didn't feel country that way. Because I always understood that there was something very funny about it. So I couldn't lie, I couldn't hold it back.
Lyle and I have a lot in common. Lyle is an example of someone who is steeped in a music of his upbringing, and unfortunately has been a little bit trapped by the industry. The country influence of Lyle is wonderful but I don't look at him as a country artists - he's a songwriter, a singer/songwriter, and there's no real place for someone like that. Even the "folk" artists like Suzanne Vega and Tracy Chapman aren't just folk artists, but people want to keep you there. Lyle and I toured a lot, I opened for him at the beginning.
DL: So in a sense you're both in the same genre predicament, in that you're both doing music you want to do, and you're not trying to tailor it to radio. You're forcing radio to take you on your own terms, and sometimes it works...
KDL: And sometimes it doesn't. Yeah.
DL: There's a mischief about you that comes through all that. In your performance of some songs, in your poolside introductions in your new video compilation...sort of a wise-cracking mischief, like you're standing back and looking at it all and seeing how funny it is.
KDL: Mm-hmm. Yes.
DL: I don't see the mischief today...
KDL: No, I'm not feeling mischevious right now. I go through periods of being that way and the country stuff was, I felt mischevious. I was young - for my first record I was 21 years old, and I had been influenced by the punk scene, and I came from a performance art background. I couldn't just completely eliminate it. The juxtoposition between performance art and country music is what totally turned me on.
DL: How did that affect the way country reacted to you?
KDL: Well, you obviously understand that humor was a part of my music and still is; even on this "serious" album, with Miss Chatelaine.
DL: Does taking care of the business part of career take up a lot of time?
KDL: Yes, it really does. But you get addicted to it. There's a part of me that just wants to be an artist and not be bothered with it, but there's
another part of me that's very competitive that wants to be a very precise businesswoman and very very fierce. To be competitive and get on the phone and
(pounds fist on the table) stir it up.
DL: If you hadn't been a singer/songwriter what would you have done for a living?
KDL: That's just too outrageously hypothetical. A roller derby queen? I mean, I always knew this is what I would do, there was never any doubt, it was just a matter of getting it done.
DL: What kind of jobs have you had?
KDL: I was a mechanic's assistant at a heavy equipment rental shop, you know, compressors and jackhammers and stuff. That was my first job, and the only other job I had was manager of the classical records department at a record shop.
DL: How has the financial part of your success felt?
KDL: Well, I've attained a lot of my material goals, but it's funny - you go through a period where you feel very scared because it brings up your feelings of mortality. And it is a sad reminder that spiritual goals are not nearly as easily obtained. When I reach material goals, they frighten me because I have this feeling of imminent fatality, whether it be creatively or my body. The biggest goal I have is to stay creative, but then when you have material success - or a number one hit - you fear that it may all go away. I think it is important to replenish the sources, my muses, to stay true and honest to where I think I get my stuff from.
My artistic goal is to not get redundant, and to feel that I'm evolving as an artist, and producing something worthy. My spritual goals are to become more in tune psychically and emotionally with the dynamics of life, and with people.
DL: It seems an interesting irony that, as a loner, one of your goals it to become more psychically in tune with people.
KDL: Well, that would mean that I could be alone easier.
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