Cat's Cradle presents
Langhorne Slim & The Law
1711 Saxapahaw-Bethlehem Church Road
Saxapahaw, NC, 27340
Doors 8:00 PM / Show 9:00 PM
This event is all ages
Watch & Listen
Langhorne Slim & The Law
Sometimes, truth can't be explained. But it can be felt, running wild through a song. "I don't want to tame myself. I want to be wild," says Langhorne Slim. "If I can continue to refine the wildness but never suffocate or tame it, then I'm on the right path. Because it is a path. I feel it."
'The Spirit Moves' is Langhorne's newest artistic attempt to refine the wildness. The result is an effervescent collection of his now-signature, cinematic, joyful noise, rooted in folk, soul, and blues. Out on Dualtone Records on August 7th, 2015, the album marks his second with rock-solid band The Law, and the highly anticipated follow-up to 2012's critically acclaimed 'The Way We Move.'
'The Spirit Moves' is a stunning portrait of Langhorne's life in transition: the "born to be in motion and follow the sun" rambler found a home in Nashville, Tennessee. While he's put down roots in a place, he's unattached to a person, single for the first time in recent memory. 'The Spirit Moves' is also the first album of his career written and recorded entirely sober. Together, the record's beautiful glimpses of bold beginnings and risks taken create an ode not only to a better life, but to the vulnerability needed to live it.
"I'm a strong believer that sensitivity and vulnerability are not weaknesses. They're some of the greatest strengths of man and woman kind," Langhorne says. "And that's what a lot of the record is about."
Langhorne and The Law sought out engineer Andrija Tokic (Alabama Shakes, Hurray for the Riff Raff) and recorded 'The Spirit Moves' at Tokic's studio, the Bomb Shelter, in East Nashville. Producing duties were shouldered by Langhorne, the band, and trusted cohort Kenny Siegal, reuniting the family behind 'The Way We Move.'
"I went to battle with my demons, and I'm still doing it," Langhorne says. "My brothers stood beside me and kicked ass on the record." Three of his brothers are The Law: drummer Malachi DeLorenzo, bassist Jeff Ratner, and keys and banjo player David Moore. "My band is not a hired gun group of guys," Langhorne says. "They are my band and they are uniquely spectacular."
And then, there's brother Kenny Siegal. "In Kenny, I've found a musical brother," he says. "We drive each other crazy, but the man understands me somehow in an energetic, spiritual sense, more than most anyone I've ever met."
Langhorne wasn't looking for a co-writer, but that's exactly what Siegal became for eight of the record's songs, making 'The Spirit Moves' the first time Langhorne has ever written with someone else for an album. For Langhorne, writing is often an arduous process. "I rarely write a complete song immediately," he explains. "Every once in a while, one hits, but songs mostly come in pieces. Those pieces build up and start to taunt me as they swirl around in my head. Eventually, they make me feel like I'm going totally crazy. It's like they're gonna devour me -- eat me alive."
He pushed through alone to pen some of the tracks, chasing each song's individual truth. In creating others, Siegal helped him put the pieces together.
What emerged is a record that delights in contradiction: freewheeling but purposeful; celebratory but confessional; looking to light even when it's dark. Langhorne's voice -- an arresting howl sublimely at home in a Mississippi roadhouse or on a Newport stage -- has never sounded better.
He wrote the title track just weeks before entering the studio, "terrified that I didn't have enough and what I had wasn't good enough." The song is no mere reflection, but a manifestation of unbridled joy, and a celebration of opening up oneself to the supernatural that surrounds us.
"Changes" is an intimate look at a soul being reborn, but Langhorne hopes each listener can hear something of their own in it. "When I'm writing, it's coming from a heart or soul kind of place, not the mental zone of 'Well, I moved to Nashville and I got sober and I'm single and I'm going through changes, so let's write a song about it,'" he says. He calls infectious garage-pop growler "Put it Together" "the most painful song I've ever written," not because of the subject matter, but because of the process. He found the opening lines and crunchy chords while seeking relief after his beloved 1977 Mercury Comet was stolen. But then, the song took months to complete. "I've never worked that hard to get a song," he says.
The refusal to let a heart harden helped bring about "Life's a Bell," a dreamy call-to-action that nods to 50s rock-and-roll and Sly and the Family Stone. "A lot of my music is celebration of light," he says. "It's a horrible thing to shield our hearts and not be vulnerable."
"Wolves," based on a James Kavanaugh poem, tackles similar subject matter, and Langhorne feels it's the "truest expression of myself that I've put into a song." "I'm tough enough to run with the bulls, and I'm too gentle to live amongst wolves," he sings, his soul-shouting subdued to a hush that's just as powerful.
The rollicking "Southern Bells" pulses with the optimism of a new day, while "Strongman" and its piano pay tribute to perseverance and seizing the moment. "Whisperin'" captures another kind of breakthrough, relatable and intense, while "Strangers" is classic Langhorne Slim, and begs to be danced to, uninhibited and free.
"Airplane" is a poignant example of his ability to capture the redemptive hope in desperation. Part meditation, part urging of an unnamed co-conspirator, the song puts his defiantly tender vocals front and center, hugged by a rotating cast of instruments that kicks off with stark guitar and piano, swells into lush strings and percussion, then ebbs back into its stripped-down beginning -- like the waves of confidence and doubt that make up faith itself.
The song is undoubtedly a career standout for Langhorne, and creating it was a long road. Three key "muses" -- his Grandma Ruth, dear friend Joel Sadler, and another confidant -- gave him encouragement along the way. "I kept going for 'Airplane' because it made sense to me and there were people around me who were moved very deeply by it," he says. "It's one of my favorite songs I've ever written."
With a new home and a clear head, Langhorne is exhilarated thanks to the realization of what he knew was possible. "I had a problem with drugs and alcohol from the time I was 15 until I quit last year on my 33rd birthday," Langhorne says. "I was hitting my head against the ceiling. I knew all I had to do was quit, and my head would burst through that ceiling. I didn't really know what would be there, but I knew it'd be something greater."
For Langhorne, something greater includes making the best music of his life.
"By opening myself, I'm vulnerable and I'm fearful, but I start to get real. And in that realness, there is immense strength that I wish for everybody," Langhorne says. "Maybe everybody's scared to be a freak. But when you live as a freak -- " he laughs -- "it's so much more fulfilling."
- Elisabeth Dawson, 2015
Nashville songwriter Jonny Fritz's work ethic and boldness have paid off in spades. It's been a big year for Jonny, with opening stints for Alabama Shakes, Deer Tick, Dawes, Shooter Jennings and rockabilly legend Wanda Jackson and kudos from CMT and Rolling Stone, among many others. He's signed a deal with indie label ATO Records (he actually signed the deal with gravy at Nashville landmark Arnold's Country Kitchen) and Loose Records in Europe, and his third full-length album, Dad Country, is set for release on April 16, 2013 (April 15 in Europe).
Produced by Jonny and Dawes' Taylor Goldsmith, recorded at Jackson Browne's Los Angeles studio and finished up in Music City, USA, this is a breakthrough album, balancing Fritz's earthy trademark humor and unfiltered worldview with some of his darkest material to date. The album has a Nashville sound kept aloft on a sure Southern Californian wind, no doubt from the influence of his backing band: Taylor and Griffin Goldsmith, Tay Strathairn and Wylie Gelber of Dawes, Jackson Browne, and his Nashville band of Spencer Cullum Jr, Joshua Hedley, Taylor Zachry and Jerry Pentecost.
Dad Country is also his first release under his real name, Fritz, with Jonny ditching the "Corndawg" moniker he'd carried since his early teens.
Now a music veteran with a decade of touring under his belt, he's grown into an accomplished, mature voice in country music. Says co-producer Goldsmith, "Funny as they can be at moments, his songs access realities and experiences that we're all familiar with but sometimes fail to consider the depths of. I was really honored to work on the record. We tracked for two days and arranged the songs on the spot. Everyone really responded to each other's ideas and the whole experience was really inspiring and easy. I chalk it up to the quality of Jonny's songs on this record."
After nearly a decade spent on the road (since his late teens), it was well-earned luck that brought Jonny together with dream team that would bring Dad Country to life – including none other than Jackson Browne. Originally scheduled to record at another Los Angeles studio, Jonny and co-producer Taylor Goldsmith were left scrambling for a backup plan when their original producer flaked. As it happened, they were playing a show in Hollywood that week and Browne was in attendance. After the show, Browne approached Jonny and, learning of their troubles, generously offered up his studio. Just three weeks later, they were all holed up at Browne's, recording the new record.
Fritz and Goldsmith had rehearsed most the songs together, but the rest of the band had to learn them run-and-gun style in the studio, nailing many of the songs on the first time ever playing them together. In just four days, they pounded out 14 tracks in one long, inspired rush and this excitement pervades the results. "It was really spontaneous," Fritz says.
"We just pulled it out of our proverbial asses as we went along." Fritz later re-recorded two of the songs that had evolved significantly on the road since the studio session – the Red Simpson-esque "Fever Dreams" and down-home lament "Ain't It Your Birthday" – using his own band back in Nashville. With these, the record was ready and dead-on with Jonny's vision of Dad Country.
Like his songwriting heroes Tom T. Hall, Michael Hurley, Roger Miller and Clint Black, Jonny can turn phrases 'til you're dizzy, all while plucking your heartstrings or capturing a sharp, lonesome vulnerability that never seems lost or brooding. For Jonny Fritz is no tear-in-the-beer sap moaning over his lost love and troubles. He'd rather cry running marathons than sitting on a barstool. Rather than Outlaw Country, he prefers we think of him as "someone's weird Dad" and a musician of his own bent. He writes his every song with that deep country-music impulse to turn real experience into lyrical form.
Born in Montana and raised in Virginia, Jonny grew up in the middle of mountains and weirdos of every allegiance, developing a blind man's ear for the slightest turn in a tale or human voice. He dropped out of school and left home early, totally undaunted, and toured the country on his motorcycle, selling just enough music to keep his freedom and stay ahead of bitterness. "If I could sell three CDs a night, I would have enough for gas and to make it to the next town."
Cramming six lifetimes into six years and collecting triumphs and heartaches every corner of the globe, he eventually wound his way toward Tennessee. "Not because I wanted to break in over on Music Row and 'make it,' because I knew I didn't really belong there," he says. "I wanted to learn the ways of country music ... to get my education in this cool old world that exists only in Nashville."
While immersing himself in the music world, Jonny began running marathons from Philadelphia to Barcelona and pounding out his signature leather works- the dog collars and guitar straps- seen all over Nashville and half the musical universe. He found himself in NYC for year trying to save a relationship, and its slow, painful unraveling (and demise) inspired Dad Country's bleakest, heartrending tracks, including "All We Do Is Complain" and "Have You Ever Wanted to Die."
These days, life has never been better for Jonny Fritz. He's back in Nashville again and putting down roots- and has even gone and bought himself a house. "It just keeps getting better. Now, the band is getting paid, I'm getting paid, everybody's happy, and we're packing 'em in when we play."
"This is the dream life. I couldn't really ask for anything else."