In No Rush
Longtime Jackson resident and folk singer reflects on 35 years spent making an album.
Tom Rush performs in July 1963 at Club 47 in Cambridge, Mass. Rush, a valley resident since 1990, was a fixture of the 1960s Cambridge folk scene and introduced artists such as James Taylor and Joni Mitchell. PHOTO BY JOHN BYRNE COOKEView our entire photo gallery >>
By Katy Niner, Jackson Hole, Wyo.
April 15, 2009
Wyoming courses through the acoustic folds of Tom Rush’s new CD, What I Know, his first studio release in nearly 35 years. Hear the Snake River inspiration in “River Song,” which Rush wrote while living in Rodney Dornan’s cabin in Moose. Picture the saloon setting of “Silly Little Diddle,” or imagine the applause after his trial run of “One Good Man” at the Hootenanny.
After decades in the West, Rush, 68, recently returned to his East Coast roots, trading the receding white carpet of Teton spring for pockets of snow drops.
“We miss Jackson,” he said from New Hampshire. “I’m sure we will be back at some point.”
In New England, spring means maple syrup season. For Rush, it’s also time for touring. After releasing What I Know in late February, Rush has taken it across the country. On Saturday, he will perform on “A Prairie Home Companion” at Town Hall in New York City. Host Garrison Keillor also will welcome Elvis Costello. A recording will broadcast at 6 p.m. Saturday on Wyoming Public Radio 90.3 FM and again at 3 p.m. Sunday.
On air, Rush likely will pull from all corners of his repertoire.
“I consider a lot of those old songs my old friends,” he said.
His dry humor surely will surface, too, as it did during his conversation with the News&Guide. He explained What I Know’s timing with the quip: “The time was right, and I had run out of excuses.”
While his new album features guests such as Emmylou Harris and Nanci Griffith, Rush tours alone.
“I’m not delivering all the magnificence of the album experience,” he joked. Even so, “the shows have been filling up. It’s been terrific.”
Rush’s studio lag belies his busyness. All told, the singer-songwriter has released 19 albums. A fixture of the 1960s Cambridge folk scene, he introduced then-unknowns James Taylor, Joni Mitchell and Jackson Browne by covering their songs. At the legendary coffeehouse Club 47, Rush would listen to his musical heroes – Flat and Scruggs, Bill Monroe, the Carter Family – and then take the stage with a sound all his own.
“He developed a very easygoing kind of style. He was definitely not imitating anyone else,” said John Byrne Cooke, a Harvard peer and Club 47 kin.
Rush often played with Cooke’s band, the Charles River Valley Boys.
Rush savored the creative confluence in Cambridge.
“It was an endless banquet of incredible music,” he said. “It was definitely much more fun than studying. There is no clear career path that leads from being an English major. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do. I figured I would sing for a while and take my time to figure out what I would do next.”
His rhetorical recipe still mixes humor and humility.
“I am still just trying to have a good time making music. That’s really all I’ve ever tried to do: make music.”
Making music for Rush means tapping life’s harmony and discord, a range in full swing on What I Know. From the frisky invitation of “Hot Tonight” to the immigration impasse of “East of Eden,” Rush captures the texture of years spent living and learning. Rolling Stone magazine credited his 1968 album The Circle Game with launching the singer-songwriter era.
Since releasing Ladies Love Outlaws in 1974, Rush has worked on a string of compilations and live albums and maintained a steady touring schedule.
From the folk revival of the 1960s to its recent renaissance, “Tom is a figure because he has always continued to play certain songs,” Cooke said. “He keeps the tradition alive.”
Rush continues to dig up musical roots. His plans include a collection of Woody Guthrie songs – “his songs are as relevant now as when he wrote them and nobody is doing them much anymore,” he said – and perhaps a tribute to his parents’ era, the first songs he learned to play on his first instrument, the ukulele.
Rush moved to Jackson in 1990, crossing paths again with Cooke. At the Hootenanny, Rush sometimes tried out new material, Cooke said. Songs like “One Good Man” owe their album placement to Hoot approval.
“I hadn’t really planned to keep it around for long, but people seemed to like it,” Rush said.
He wrote the five originals on What I Know in the last decade: “What I Know” began as a hotel-bound, Valentine’s Day gesture to get him “out of trouble” with his bride, author Renée Askins.
The intervening years seasoned his music.
“I have been working on how to make this project happen for most of those 35 years,” Rush said.
After many false starts working on his own – his Night Light Recordings “isn’t even a label, it’s part of a file drawer” – he agreed to sign on with the socially conscious Appleseed Records. Rush immediately recruited his friend, Jim Rooney, as producer.
The album evolved over e-mail as Rush and Rooney volleyed song suggestions. Ultimately, they agreed on 15 and began recording in Nashville.
“In my experience, two or three will fall by the wayside,” Rush said. But with What I Know, “none of them died on the table. The players down there are so good. Everything just sparkled.”
“I’m very, very critical of my own work. I hate listening to my own records,” he said. But “I don’t mind listening to [What I Know]. It’s kind of fun.”
This self-tolerance also stems from the streamlined recording process. In producing past albums, Rush would “listen to a song through all the different permutations – 1,000 times or more,” he said. Technology has freed musicians from umpteen takes and retained each song’s freshness, particularly for Rush.
“Jim is very good at knowing when you’ve got it. He doesn’t go for cosmetic perfection. He goes for feel,” Rush said.
What I Know ends with an intimate version of “Drift Away” – Rooney’s suggestion.
“It’s always done with a huge production – horn sections, pole dancers. It’s a great song that way,” Rush said.
But after meeting its songwriter, Mentor Williams, he felt the high intensity didn’t suit. “He seemed to me to have a sad streak to him.”
So Rush stripped away its accumulated accoutrements to “make it more personal.”
“I was also trying to get people to hear the song with fresh ears,” a goal inspired by a Club 47 experience, when Rush heard friend Bob Jones recast Guthrie’s classic “Pastures of Plenty.”
“Boy, I’ve never actually heard that song before,” Rush recalled thinking.
That’s what he wanted to do with “Drift Away.”
“It brings the whole thing down to a pinspot on just a song, just a guitar, voice and a cello. No distractions,” he said. “You can hopefully just hear the song.”
His version of the song wraps the album in reflection and encourages listeners to get lost in his music.