The White Buffalo Interview

The White Buffalo, aka Jake Smith, played at the Bluesfest in Dublin’s 3Arena in late October, 2018. We were able to catch a few minutes with him before soundcheck to chat about his career and the growing reputation that he has been enjoying since his music started reaching a bigger audience. With a sound that spans Southern rock, alternative country and folk Americana; The White Buffalo performs with an intensity that sees him break strings on a regular basis with his performance method. Backed on tour by regular bandmates, Matt Lynott on drums (The Machine) and Christopher Hoffe on bass, The White Buffalo is a band you will not want to miss.

You perform under the name ‘The White Buffalo’. Is there a back story to how the name came about?

Yes, but it’s not terribly exciting...! Some of my friends came up with it; we just threw a few names into a hat. My name is Jake Smith, which is not very mystical or intriguing and I wanted to come up with something that was grander than just a singer songwriter and which could be just me on my own with a guitar or with an ensemble or a trio.

The name has a great imagery about it 

It does, I think it sticks in your head a little bit.

You started life in Oregon?

Well, I was born in Oregon but the family moved to California when I was very young. So, I’m pretty much a California boy.

Your first recording was Hog Tied Like a Rodeo in 2002?

Yes, it was independently recorded and released. I felt that the production had kinda got away from me at the time so I took the decision to re-record the album and released it under the name of Hogtied Revisited in 2009... There were a few new songs on there but the bulk of the record was the same, with a different production.

There was an E.P. in 2005 and then some more time before your next releases?

I was playing all the time, beginning to plant seeds and build a fan base and still looking to do everything independently. I had content but just not the means to record and put it out.

Unison Music Group arrived on the scene about then. Bruce Witkin and Ryan Dorn. Were they always in the background?

They are record producers and engineers who had a small boutique label. My lawyer represented them and he recommended me. They came to a show and we ended up doing it, which was cool. I was building things on my own fairly well but they opened up the recording hugely while still giving me my own personal freedom. They are really great to work with.

Can you tell me about your song-writing process?

I usually sit down with a guitar and write music and melody at the same time. Sometimes it comes from a stream of consciousness, from a silence and where things seem to come in from nowhere... Not always knowing what the songs are about but picking out what is valid or interesting in something that I’ve said during that lucky time and finding a jumping off point and crafting it from there.

Are the songs always character based?

Some are loosely based or autobiographical. Others are complete fantasy and dark - there’s love songs, heartbreak songs and a lot of the songs are character songs or murder songs.  A lot of my content is based in narratives and smaller human stories that are about grander themes and are moderately universal, so that people can attach their own lives too... 

Ultimately, I want to hit somebody in an emotional place; in the heart or the mind and make them think about things.. I like the darker side and the more shadowy side of the street, I think it’s interesting in a kinda darker, exciting World.

In 2012, we saw the release of your next album, Once Upon a Time In The West

This was the first one with Unison and as I hadn’t recorded in a few years, I had a bunch of songs to choose from. I’m usually pretty prolific and consistent anyway when it comes to writing but I just didn’t have the means; so, every couple of years, we now just go into the studio and make an album.

Shadows Greys And Evil Ways in 2013. It was a concept album based around the return of an army veteran coming back from the war in Iraq and his struggles to adapt.

It starts out as a love story, where a young couple meet each other and he really can’t support his new family and lifestyle, so he joins the army and goes to Iraq. He kills, loses his mind and then comes home damaged and tries to assimilate. He still feels blood thirsty and ends up killing on American soil. The ending part is more about the road to redemption and the idea of can he be human again. Through the love of his woman he gets as close as he can.

Did the album concept come to you as a fully formed idea or had it built over time?

There aren’t really that many people who write in a Kisner narrative style anymore. I wanted something with a real beginning and an ending. I had songs going in but I wasn’t really considering a concept album but when I looked at the structure of the songs and the layers of them, I thought that I could format and create this story, so I filled in the gaps. That created the ebb and flow of what the album is.

How did you develop your links with TV shows, Sons of Anarchy and Californication?

Again, my lawyer played a part. I had no management or label and no representation apart from my music attorney. He had a lunch with the music supervisor from Sons of Anarchy and as I write a lot of conflicted songs with a lot of very human people making terrible decisions in life, which had a nice marriage with the show. We did some collaborations and it was really something that built my fan base to a point and made people dive deeper into my catalogue to see that there was more... I also had song placements on NBC's This Is Us and the Netflix original series, The Punisher. Also, on the Netflix series, Longmire and in Chris Malloy's movie Shelter.

Did you notice a shift in the number of your album sales as a result?

Not so much, I think that it’s fleeting. Your song will come out and it has a boost for a couple of weeks and it will spike, but it’s not monetarily life changing. 

These days, the younger generations just want to buy the single song that interests them and no real commitment to anything beyond this

 It’s real important for me that every song has an emotional purpose and I don’t like to have any filler. The single song world is a contemporary thing. In my kind of artistry, the album is important to me. The highs and lows, the tempos and the feelings and how you sequence the album and to build an emotional journey that you go on. 

Darkest Darks & Lightest Lights appeared in 2017 and before that you had released Love And The Death Of Damnation. Both have consolidated your success as an artist of quality and with the lack of radio play these days, I wonder if the only way to gain mass appeal is through film or tv work?

I’ve gotten more licences as a result but I think that people have to champion you. It’s really not about having the pay day on your licence but more about having it grow your fan base and have people go deeper into your catalogue and come out to shows. You really make very little from the online modern musical formats like Spotify.

In the garage, is a loose blog that you do and have on the website. 

A lot of people think that I’m this dark, brooding person because I write all these heavy songs, but I’m really quite light-hearted and this is just another way of getting in direct communication. It is a place where I create a lot of my compositions and talking candidly about my work; it’s just me putting my phone out on a little stand and talking about whatever is happening. Nothing is really rehearsed.

Ernie Ball (the eponymous corporation started by Ball to market guitar accessories), did a series of documentaries around the time of Love and the Death of Damnation?

They have been really supportive and have done a handful of films and videos. They did a whole documentary series in 10 parts about the recording of the album, the highs and lows. Each one had a theme and they were released each week and they put it out there. There is also a short film that is more of an art piece than a marketing project...  It was called ‘Where the Buffalo Roams’.

Any plans to come back and tour Ireland in 2019?

There are a lot of Irish people coming to the shows so I would love to come back to Ireland and do a little bit more than just Dublin.

Interview by Paul McGee

Kristina Murray Interview

The Independent Country and Americana music scene in Nashville continues to flourish, having generated a wealth of talented and outstanding artists over the past few years. Names such as J.P. Harris, Erin Rae, Nikki Lane, Lillie Mae, Kelsey Waldon, Andrew Combs, Lera Lynn, Pat Reedy and Joshua Hedley immediately spring to mind, to name check a few. All these acts have released stand out albums in recent years, some with little or no financial support from the music industry. Kristina Murray is yet another such like artist. Highly regarded within the Nashville traditional music community ("The best country vocalist out there at the moment" - according to J.P. Harris) she has released one of Lonesome Highway’s Albums of The Year titled Southern Ambrosia. Not surprising, given the quality of her 2013 debut album Unravelin’ and her live shows. It was a pleasure to catch up with the engaging and straight-talking Murray who discussed the album and the realities of an independent artist surviving in an increasingly unforgiving industry.

Tell me about your decision to relocate in Nashville in 2014, your expectations and initial impressions when arriving there?

I relocated to Nashville for several reasons. I was born and raised in the South, and after six years in Colorado, it was just time to come home and be closer to family. I was tired of the snow and cold. Additionally, Colorado is an isolated music community, and it’s difficult to gain higher-level career traction without the music industry business connections plentiful in a city like Nashville; touring out of such a big state in the middle of the country is more difficult than on the east coast/south, and I started to crave more musical variety than what Colorado offered for me. Moving to Nashville, I expected to be humbled by the world-class musicianship (and I was, and still am!), and I expected to find a community of likeminded country music enthusiasts and other singer-songwriters; took a little while longer than my patience typically allows, but I did find it and am so grateful to my community here in Nash.  

Many artists speak of being ‘lifted up by greatness’ by moving to Nashville given it’s musical traditions and community. Was this the case for you?

Absolutely; it’s simultaneously humbling and inspiring to live in the city that basically created what we know as country music. So much incredible (and not just country) music has been made in this city; because of that history, combined with my peers and heroes living and working in this region, I certainly feel continuously motivated to be a better musician, singer, writer, guitarist, collaborator and band leader, sometimes to my own detriment and exhaustion. Though I won’t always admit it, it is astonishing to me how much musical progress I’ve made in the last four and half years. 

There appears to be a particularly supportive community among the musical immigrants that move to Nashville rather than a competitive environment. Has this been your experience? 

Yes and no; there are certainly genuinely supportive pockets of the community and again, I am fortunate to have strong friendships with working musicians who help and support each other, but—and especially being a woman—there is a sense of competition that is inherently in the business. If labels, organizations, festivals, special events, radio shows, venues, journalists and media outlets made more of a concerted effort to include more than just one or two woman-artists, I think that feeling of competition would dissipate some. 

With property prices soaring in East Nashville over recent years it must be increasingly difficult affordability wise for artists to survive there. Is this a genuine concern among your musical community?

Certainly it’s a concern. I’ve personally never even been able to afford to live in East Nashville and have always lived in significantly less wealthy parts of town. (I know for myself, in addition to pursuing my music career goals, I have to work two jobs to support my artist career and also my basic needs and bills.) All this time working regular jobs siphons time away from writing, playing, practicing, booking. This often happens though; artists come in and create a rad community, then branders and “tastemakers” want to be a part of that community, or worse to commercially exploit it, in whatever capacity they can and thus push out the artists. It’s an old story. 

The American Legion has become, in recent years, a breeding ground for younger artists rekindling the classic country flames. Nashville artists like J.P. Harris, Joshua Hedley, Kelsey Waldon, Pat Reedy and from farther afield Kayla Ray and Zephaniah OHora are also producing quality ‘real’ country music. From the front line are you detecting a growing appreciation from punters and even more so from the industry itself?

People that appreciate great music have always been around, so I wouldn’t say it’s a new growing appreciation so much as it seems it’s currently trendy and hip to support traditional leaning country and maybe folks are just jumping on the bandwagon? Or, perhaps listeners are just hungry for something with substance, I don’t know, I’m not an expert! I do know that JP, Pat, Kelsey, Zeph and myself…we all create and study and listen to and sing this music because we love this music and will continue to make it long after “the trend” is gone. I don’t really have a good grasp on—or, to be frank—care about what “the industry” appreciates. If somebody wants to pay me money for my song, if a label wants to pick me up… great…I desperately need it! But, like Welch wrote and sang, “gonna do it anyway, even if it doesn’t pay.” 

There is no roadmap anymore for artists like yourself to follow which inevitably leads to a sustainable career in the music industry. The talent is as strong as ever but the opportunities for exposure seem increasingly difficult. How frustrating is it to deal with this on a practical level?

How much time do you have? The music business is arbitrary, impractical, without rhyme or reason, and what works for some artist and bands, doesn’t work for others. Seems to me that unless an artist has a financier, whether that’s independent or family wealth, or via a label, it’s rather impossible to get to the “next level.” Hard work and talent only go so far; I know, I’ve been working for over ten years, and know a ridiculous amount of artists and bands working much longer and harder than I have that are still not at a sustainable career level. You’re right in that there is an embarrassment of riches with regards to talent, but without the financial component…well…I guess I just have to accept that I’ll be a fringe artist. I’ve just recently started to be OK with it.

You’ve spoken about your love of The Allman Brothers growing up in Georgia and your exposure to Bluegrass when living in Colorado. When did traditional country make its initial impression on you?

As a little girl, I heard Patsy Cline and some Loretta, and my momma had a couple Emmylou, Jessi Colter and Joni Mitchell albums; as a middle and high schooler, I was into 90’s country too, like Alan Jackson, Travis Tritt, Trisha. But the real, hard stuff, I didn’t get into that until college. I worked at a summer camp in the north Georgia mountains on my summers off from school and we listened to Hank and Junior, Waylon, and bluegrass…a lot of that stuff. And oh boy, when I found Buck and Don, and George Jones, it was all downhill from there; I was obsessed. 

The album cover of your excellent album Southern Ambrosia has a striking resemblance to Emmylou’s Luxury Liner, with the only disparity being that your image is slightly less revealing. Coincidence or intended?

Ha! I think it was a faraway subconsciousness? I studied so much Emmylou in my early years of playing music, my early and mid-twenties, and I absolutely love ‘Luxury Liner’ (my second fave Emmylou record, after ‘Quarter Moon’). However, I didn’t even think about that connection when I first saw the original polaroid (which is slightly less dark than the cover), until I showed a friend the finished ‘Southern Ambrosia’ cover and she said that same thing about the resemblance to ‘Luxury Liner.’

The album most certainly establishes you as an accomplished songwriter notwithstanding your well recognised vocal ability. Over what period were the songs created?

Man, thanks! Kind words indeed! ‘The Ballad of Angel and Donnie’ and ‘Lovers and Liars’ are the oldest tunes; I wrote those in 2014. ‘Jokes On Me’ and ‘Slow Kill’ were written in 2017, so a span of four years. I generally throw out about 98% of what I write, because it’s not good enough; I’m definitely not a prolific songwriter, and used to worry A LOT about that. More so recently, however, I’m embracing that if the few I write a year are really good, then I’m ok with my non-prolific-ness.  It’s all very subjective however, and that fucks with me.

How difficult was it opening up your heart and writing material from a very personal and autobiographical backstory? 

It’s pretty much the only way I know how to write. When I try to write from other perspectives or stories that are not my own, it’s difficult for me and the result almost always feels cheesy and stupid, and I’m afraid that everyone knows I’m making it up and “I don’t know what I’m talking about.” I adhere to the writer’s adage: write what you know. 

You’ve managed to approach downbeat subject matter with an upbeat sound on tracks like Slow Killand The Ballad Of Angel & Donnie, in some ways drowning the sorrowful theme. More often than not, other’s songs dealing with topics such as booze and pills dependency tend to be less pacey to say the least. Was this premeditated? 

So awesome that you caught that! ‘Angel and Donnie’ just spilled out that way; the muse was working ferociously the night I wrote that one, and I like that the intense and frantic sonic element of the tune reflects the story of those nefarious characters and their crippling, murderous loyalty and addictions. ‘Slow Kill’ was different. I wrote that song at a mid-tempo, and I still love to perform it live that way so that the words are heard more clearly. However the way it turned out on the record, man, it’s my favorite cut on the album! The lyrics of that tune are so hopeless and desperate, it needed an upbeat musical component to be listenable. It’s a bit of my bluegrass training shining through: songs that sound happy and upbeat but, under the surface, are actually pretty dark topics. 

The contradictions in respect of being a Southerner are aired on the opening track Made In America and continue throughout the album. Conflicting pride and shame, a suggested difficult growing up also get an airing.  Did the writing for the album act as an opportunity to purge these opposites? 

Southern identity is a tricky thing: the tension and juxtaposition of pride and shame, of paying homage to positive traditions of being southern (food, politeness, accents), while trying to redefine tired stereotypes of the south, and acknowledge our violent, oppressive past. There’s a desire in me to loudly recognize that the effects of cultural, economic, racial, religious and political history in this region creates what we are today, for better, but, more often than not it seems, for worse. I’m just trying to put these stories and perspectives and opinions on the table and say ‘hey. look. listen.’ I don’t ever really think of my work in songwriting as “writing for an album;” these are just truth-telling songs and luckily, this collection of songs that became Southern Ambrosia had that common thread. 

The final track Joke’s On Me is exceptionally personal and raw. A pivotal and defiant statement to close the album before moving on?

The sequencing fell so naturally for this record, and I personally either love a giant, banging album closer or a soft, introspective self-reflection. Seems to me that great albums are a recorded imprint of an artist’s life at that point in time. Once Joke's was written in spring of 2017, I knew it was the closer for the album because that was a dominant feeling in my life for a good year after my breakup with my long term partner. The song is very personal and true to me, and exactly how I felt about that breakup. The track on the record is the demo and we chose that purposefully so you could feel the raw pain of it all.  

You’ve put the hard graft in, written the songs, recorded the album and released it.  As an independent artist what measures do you now take to get the album to as wide an audience as possible? 

I ran a PR campaign for three months prior to the record release, and a two month radio campaign once it was released, but unfortunately that’s all my “budget” could afford. I’ll just keep pushing the record independently as a one woman DIY machine and play the long game, I guess. I’d love some help via representation from a label, booking agent or manager, but that has yet to come for me. Five years after my first record came out, people are still finding and listening to that one, so onward and upward!

Do you intend touring the album with a band in The States further afield than Tennessee or concentrate on venues closer to home?

I’d love to tour all over the US/Canada, and I am determined to do it! However—and this isn’t new news—unless you’re a well-established act, have a booking agent (I don’t) or have some mailbox money coming in, touring is extremely expensive. I’d prefer to take a four piece band (five piece being ideal) but I think, strictly for financial reasons, I’ll have to do solo touring for a while, to establish stronger fan bases. 

Do you see Europe as an option touring wise?

Would love to tour Europe! I toured Sweden and Norway this summer and absolutely loved it. So, yes, I’d LOVE to get over there. Again, however, see “the touring is extremely expensive” comment above. 

It often appears to me that quite a number of artists, both male and female, are recording a country album early career and then changing direction towards a more indie sound in their follow up album. Do you see yourself changing direction or have you even had the chance to consider a future project so soon after releasing Southern Ambrosia? 

For me, I know I’m going to continue to write and record art I think is good, meaningful, true, and worth releasing…however it comes out! I think artists should make their art, in whatever sound or shape that takes form.  

Interview by Declan Culliton

Cliff Westfall Interview

"Hot damn. I don’t know who the hell Cliff Westfall is or where he’s been hiding out for so many years, but he just released a hot shit country record that will whip the pants off of most others released this year and many from years prior, and get you making room on your list of favourite artists’’. I’m borrowing that quote from Kyle “The Triggerman” Coroneos, creator and head writer for Saving Country Music.com, guardian of ‘real’ country music and slayer of the commercial garbage currently impersonating country music. The quote precisely reflects Lonesome Highway’s opinion of Westfall and his debut solo album Baby You Win, which made an equally lofty impact on us when it came across our radar earlier in the year.  There’s a lot more to Westfall than great songs, hillbilly boogie, honky tonk rockin’ and keeping essential traditional music alive and kicking. Behind all these admirable virtues is also a musical philosopher and enthusiast. 

How would you best describe your music?

I sometimes call it electrified honky tonk. I like to play with a five- or even six-piece band, and keep the music pretty raucous at live shows, with a lot of high country harmonies, twangy guitars and pedal steel, turned up to 10 at least if not 11. 

To come at it from what it’s not: People often describe my music as retro, but I really don’t see it that way. It doesn’t offend me or anything – in fact, I think it’s intended as a compliment, but I’m not trying to recreate what Lefty or Hank or Merle did (not that I could anyway). I’m trying to write and perform songs for right now, not create a museum-quality replica of something from another era. At the same time, classic honky tonk is very much my inspiration, so if people are comparing my songs to the classics that I love, I’m honoured. 

One other thought on the tension between tradition and newness: I think tradition is at the core of what country music is about, both from the standpoint of stylistic continuity on a musical level, as well as being concerned with the role of tradition in people’s lives. I think that I’m a traditionalist on both of those levels, or at least I try to be. If you’re doing it right, you’re writing in your own world but having kind of an ongoing conversation with the past too. And if you’re doing it wrong – I’m thinking here of a lot of contemporary Nashville “product” – you end up with stuff that doesn’t seem related at all to what came before.

I have to ask you about the striking album cover. A throwback to previous decades?

Ha, yes – thank you, I would say that the cover IS pretty retro! I don’t think I’ve said this in an interview before, but the image was inspired by the cover of the Louvin Brothers album Tragic Songs of Life. I showed it to my friend Billy Woodward, a New York-based artist, as an example of something that I thought would fit the vibe, and what you see was his response. I thought he hit a home run with it. 

A couple of things I love about it: 1) I’m a huge fan of early film noir – films like The Asphalt Jungleand Out of the Past– and it looks like it could have been a movie poster from the era; and 2) That image of the dejected guy in the chair is obviously me, but I never posed for it; Billy just kind of put me in there. I thought that was cool. 

Fortunately, the album itself is of an equally high standard musically. Tell me about its conception and how long you’ve been working on it?

The big picture is that I had a bunch of songs that I knew I wanted to record, and I had fallen in with a bunch of really amazing players, so it seemed like the time to go for it.

The songs range in age. I had been part of a honky tonk band called The Steamboat Disasters in New York in the early 2010s, and a few of the songs on Baby You Windate back that far (e.g., “It Hurt Her to Hurt Me,” “I’ll Play the Fool”). After that band broke up, I formed an acoustic duo called The Needmore Brothers that played mostly in the Catskills, a couple of hours north of New York City. Some of the songs came from that period too (“The Man I Used to Be,” “Sweet Tooth,” plus the cover we did of “Hanging On” – in fact, my Needmores partner Matthew Horn (a/k/a “Short Fuse Needmore”) sings harmonies on the record a couple of songs that we used to do together (“Sweet Tooth,” “Hanging On”). And then, there were some that I never really played until I started going out under my own name around 2016 – for example, “More and More,” “Baby You Win,” “The Odds Were Good.”

I have to give a lot of credit to Graham Norwood, who started playing with me as a guitarist and harmony singer around that time. He helped me put the band together, he’s one of the two producers of the album, he and I together chose the songs to put on Baby You Winas well as what to leave back for the next one. And also to producer Bryce Goggin of Trout Recording in Brooklyn. He’s better known as a rock producer (The Ramones, Phish, Antony & The Johnsons, Evan Dando), but he understood exactly what we were going for, and created a great working vibe for the band too.

You have certainly poured your heart into it. Beautifully packaged with an impressive lyric book, were you determined to tick every box in terms of its presentation, regardless of the financially outlay involved?

Thank you. I wanted to put out something that I’d want if I was buying it. And for me, especially as a kid, the package was always such a huge part of the experience of listening to a record. Put the album on, pore over the cover art, read the lyric insert (if any) for the millionth time… repeat.

It pays homage to the early sound of Dwight Yoakam, an artist very close to your own heart?

I’m really glad to hear that, because Dwight Yoakam is foundational for me. What I love about Dwight is the way that he brought in elements of rock and roll and still managed to stay very much a country traditionalist in terms of his songwriting. I think actually that you could say the same thing about Dwight’s own hero (and one of mine too), Buck Owens. Both of those guys managed to do the seemingly contradictory thing of pushing the envelope while writing songs that felt like old standards.

You’ve mixed the standard country fall backs of booze, heartache and regret with no end of humour on tracks like Till The Right One Comes Along and the title track. Listeners to your style of country often are taken in by the melody without actually exploring the lyrics. Your lyrics appear to be every bit as critical as your melodies? 

Again, thank you. As a fan, I have always been attracted to good lyrics. I love songs that tell a story, or make me laugh, or make me think. At the same time, good lyrics gain part of their power by the way they drive the rhythm and melody. I think that when somebody really does it right, the words and music seem nearly inseparable, so that you can hardly imagine one without the other.

I’m also glad that you noticed that “Till the Right One Comes Along,” which is kind of a dark weepy ballad, has elements of humour too. I think that’s true in life generally, that you can say serious things with some degree of humour. It’s also part of the way I was brought up –Southerners and the Irish probably have that in common!

What writers switched the lights on for you and in particular which ones encouraged you to incorporate humour in your writing?

In no particular order: Roger Miller, Don Gibson, Shel Silverstein, Jerry Chesnut (who wrote “A Dime at a Time” and “Looking at the World Through a Windshield” for Del Reeves, in addition to stone classic weepers like “Another Place, Another Time” and “A Good Year for the Roses”), Buck Owens, Merle Haggard, Mel Tillis, Felice and Boudleaux Bryant (who wrote hits for The Everly Brothers and Little Jimmy Dickens). Among contemporary writers who inspire me in that way, Robbie Fulks and Mike Stinson are both great. 

Tell me about growing up in Owensboro Kentucky and the music that you were exposed to as a child?

I’m glad you asked that. The music and culture that I was exposed to there as a kid really shaped what I’m trying to do as an artist. For one thing, my family was full of talkers. Family stories, often laugh-till-you-cried hilarious even if the underlying events might have been kind of dark, got told and re-told, and that was just part of how we related to each other. I thought that was completely the norm until I moved away from home and realized that it wasn’t. 

On the musical front, I thought that adults everywhere listened to country music, and that kids listened to rock and roll, and that that was the way of the world. 

My folks absolutely loved country music – they honeymooned in Nashville and talked for years about meeting Hee Haw comedian Archie Campbell in a bar, to give you a sense of how deeply they loved it. They were pretty old school as parents: If there was a choice between what I wanted to hear and what they did, it wasn’t a choice at all. So that classic honky tonk sound was all around me, even if as a kid, I preferred the AM rock and roll stations. 

My dad – technically my stepdad but he’s the one who raised me – was a police officer, and he was a big, tough guy. My mom worked in a liquor distillery. My neighbourhood was pretty tough in its own way, too. I recall being introduced to other kids as “This is Cliff, his dad’s a cop but he’s cool,” which may give you a sense of the general vibe in the neighbourhood.

Owensboro was a great place to grow up. It’s on the Ohio River, kind of industrial (liquor production, steel, coal, etc.), but it was surrounded by rural areas – including musically famous places like Rosine (homeplace of Bill Monroe, which is also where my  great-grandfather was from), Muhlenberg County, which produced Merle Travis, the Everlys, and others. But a lot of those rural areas were dry, and Owensboro was kind of a Sin City where people would come to drink and party. So, there was just kind of a honky tonk vibe, and my folks definitely partook of it pretty liberally. As a 10- or 12-year-old, I would sometimes mix the drinks at their parties – everybody drank bourbon and Coke, so it wasn’t exactly advanced mixology. The only real challenge for me was to see how stiff I could make them without getting them sent back. And country music blaring the whole time: Jones, Haggard, Waylon and Willie, Conway Twitty, Loretta, Dolly, Charley Pride, etc.

What music and artists outside country made the strongest impression on you? 

I could go on all day about that too. I probably lean mostly towards vintage Southern music – early rock and roll, gospel, and R&B. The early rockers weren’t that far from country anyway, but I particularly love Chuck Berry, who I think was the greatest lyricist ever because he was so precise and rhythmic and at the same time so hilarious and smart. Buddy Holly and Elvis loom pretty large for me as well. I also love LOTS of R&B and soul music: Percy Mayfield, who most famously wrote “Hit the Road, Jack,” Ike and Tina, pretty much anyone who was on Memphis-based Hi Records – Al Green, Ann Peebles, O.V. Wright. And a million others probably.

I also love a lot of early garage rock, punk, and pub rock. Nick Lowe is one of the greatest songwriters ever, I think. X, the New York Dolls, the Stooges, the Sonics, etc. But I love lots of the stuff you can hear on any classic rock station, too: I’m a huge fan of Dylan, the Stones, the Kinks, the Beatles, Creedence.

How pivotal was the surgency In Cowpunk in directing you towards performing?

When I went away to college in Lexington, Kentucky, cowpunk was just beginning to be a thing there. My friends and I were especially into Jason and the Scorchers, but most of the bands doing that came through town at one time or another, and there was a thriving local scene that I was part of both as a fan and performer. It’s weird to think about, because it seems obvious now, but it came as a complete revelation to me that you could mix country with fast, hard rock and roll. Learning that my two favourite things could just be joined together like that was amazing – it was like discovering how good bananas and peanut butter taste together or something. (Something I highly recommend, by the way.) And also, the punk DIY ethos carried over into cowpunk, so we were like, why can’t we do that? 

Anyway, yes, I think it was really pivotal in getting me to go for it. At the same time, I was always someone who leaned more towards the country side of the cowpunk equation among my friends and bandmates. 

So, when did Cliff Westfall the listener become Cliff Westfall the performer and do you recall your first gig and some of the setlist?

I dabbled a bit with singing with musician friends in high school but didn’t really have any true gigs until I got to college in Lexington. I started a duo with a friend of mine, doing a mix of originals (most now mercifully forgotten), and covers of everyone from the Butthole Surfers to Hank Williams. But I don’t remember exactly what the first gig was or what we played. Later on, we added a rhythm section and got a whole lot louder, which was a blast.

The dreaded crossover pop country market is strong nationwide in The States due to the marketing machines driving it across so many Radio Stations. However, classic or traditional country appears to be making some impact outside Nashville and Austin at present with growing audiences in California and New York. Has this been your experience?

Oh, definitely. Maybe I’m being optimistic, but I think there’s an increasing recognition that people doing things their own way, and playing outside of the rules of corporate country, are the true innovators. Just look at the Grammys this year, where it seems like the majority of country nominees are outside that cookie cutter mould. I think that’s cause for optimism, even if the industry machinery is still pushing pop country. I know from looking at my own Spotify numbers that I do well in places you wouldn’t necessarily expect – Texas, Kentucky and Tennessee are up there, but people are listening in Chicago, Los Angeles and New York too. 

Are there many opportunities to perform live in New York for you?

Most of the venues in New York are pretty open to diverse genres. And on top of that, there are a lot of country and country-influenced acts here too, so it’s really not that hard to get bookings. On one hand, country is not the go-to genre here the way that it is in the South, but New York is still a huge city, with a decent-sized audience for just about everything under the sun, definitely including country. And I think we’re making a few converts along the way, too. I sometimes do bills with indie rock bands and end up playing for people who say they didn’t think they liked country music, but they liked our show. It’s kind of an awkward compliment to get, because it makes me want to defend country as an art form. On the other hand, if my image of country music was coming from mainstream country radio, I’d recoil in horror too.

Have you ever been tempted to relocate to Austin or Nashville?

Funny you should ask. I’m probably not going to make a permanent move, at least in the short term, but I have plans in the works to start spending real time in each of them. I love New York and I have roots here now, but those two cities are both so important, and both are chock full of amazing players too. And Nashville for me is just a couple of hours from where I grew up, so it’d be nice to be close to home.

Last question. It’s 1986 and Cliff Westfall has just released Baby You Win on the Reprise label.  The launch of stardom?

Ha! I’d love to think so. I do think it would’ve fit in well with the stuff that was going on back then. But the truth is, I couldn’t have written this album without getting a lot more life experience first.

Interview by Declan Culliton  Photography by Rosie Cohe and Diego Britt (live)