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MON., APRIL 21, 2008
eMusic Q&A : Sarabeth Tucek
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eMusic Q&A : Sarabeth Tucek

by Tim Chester
Sarabeth Tucek has friends and admirers in all the right places. The singer/songwriter was personally plucked by no less than Bob Dylan as a support act and has collaborated with everyone from Smog to Brian Jonestown Massacre. When performing with Jonestown's Anton Newcombe, she unintentionally bewitched a captivated audience into heckling in her favour at the evening’s supposed stars — which led to one of Newcombe’s trademark scraps.

Maybe it’s her phenomenal voice — a silky hybrid of Jenny Lewis and Cat Power — that enthrals. Or perhaps it’s her nonchalant, devil-may-care attitude to life. Either way, she’s winning fans on both sides of the Atlantic, picking up critical acclaim and doe-eyed regulars at her gigs.

eMusic caught up with Tucek at her temporary home of Los Angeles, having recently moved from New York. She answers our questions with a lazy drawl and a startling honesty, swaying from regret to hilarity on the toss of a dime.

Hey, how are you? How’s life in LA right now?

It’s not my cup of tea here. The weather is a little too consistent and I don’t like the driving. It’s not much of a city, it feels like living in a suburb, and it’s a pretty lonely place. You’re always contained, either in your home or your car. It all feels contrived. In New York you’re thrown out in the world — it’s all a little bit boring here.

Has it affected your creativity?

I think it’s better in New York and when I’m travelling. When I’m secluded and sedentary I don’t do much. What I write is reactionary. It’s myself versus mankind. My reactions to Los Angeles are more passive and bored. I feel more creative on the road.

You didn’t become a musician 'til the age of 26. What was going on before then?

My father passed away when I was 21, which kind of derailed me. I spent a lot of time not knowing what I was supposed to do, and trying to make myself feel better. I was very self-destructive, I slept too much and did a lot of things that I shouldn’t have done. I’d always been a big journal keeper, but once I picked up a guitar I found the thing that made me feel better about everything.

Did you write much about your father?

It took me a long time to be able to figure out a way to put it in terms that weren’t so blatant. Just recently I’ve been able to turn it into a song and feel okay about it. There are hints of things coming to an end on the first record, and those hints may not be about love, but it will be addressed properly on the second record I think.

You were looking for the right metaphors?

For me, to write about something there has to be a bit of distance. I couldn’t come up with metaphors or poeticise it I guess.

What other lyrical themes are important to you?

Loss and absence is a big one, and also outsider feelings: trying to fit in, wondering why you don’t fit in, and why you feel that way. Nose pressed up against the glass sort of thing, I guess.

It seems like there’s memories of someone in "Blowing Kisses"…

Yeah. I did also lose somebody else around the time I started writing, so there’s some of that in some of those songs. It’s all mixed together: boyfriends, dead people…



I have a bit of a weak spot for Christina Aguilera.




You’re one of the many people that have caused Anton Newcombe to start a fight. How does that feel?

Um, he really doesn’t need much to start a fight. He could start a fight over a sponge. I don’t feel too proud about that [laughs]. That whole experience was absurd. I’ve seen him hit many many many people.

How does it feel to have Bob Dylan as a fan?

[Laughs] I don’t even know. It was great, an incredible honor to play with him. It was huge, for me. I still can’t even totally process that. When I met him he said he wasn’t feeling well, and I said I didn’t care and kissed him. Then he said, “Yeah, but I don’t know what you’ve got.” He was very sweet and very funny and very Bob Dylan.

You’ve collaborated with Smog and Brian Jonestown Massacre among others. Who’s next?

I don’t know, it’s really quite frightening collaborating with people. If you’re on equal footing it’s fine, but when someone asks you to do something on their records, you have to work within their framework and do things their way. Working with Anton and Bill Callahan was very challenging. I’d love to do something with the Black Angels. I have fantasy people, like Neil Young or even Bob Dylan.

Did you get each other’s numbers?

He gave me his autograph. He wrote on a piece of paper that had my name on it, (does her best Bob Dylan accent), “I’m gonna write my name above yours.” I was like, “m’okay.” That was all that we swapped. He’s probably got a lot of women out there.

So how do you find life on the road?

It suits me pretty well. I moved around quite a bit as a kid, following my mother’s geographical whims. She was a bit reckless and she liked to move around.

Where did she take you?

Predominantly around New York state and New Jersey and Florida; we never lived in an apartment for longer than six months. We lived in Puerto Rico and Santo Domingo too.

How do you pass the time on the road?

I read, sleep, stare out the window. I enjoy staring out the window. I never had any other hobbies and I was always envious of people that did. I wish I could knit or something like that, but for the most part I just stare out the window.

So what are you listening to at the moment?

I’ve been listening to a lot of Tim Hardin, and I’m really liking that LCD Soundsystem album.

What’s the guilty pleasure?

I have a bit of a weak spot for Christina Aguilera, I think her voice is amazing.

So when no-one’s around you put on "Dirrty"?

[Laughs] I don’t, I don’t have her record. If I’m flipping through the radio station I may just listen to it, but….

What’s next for you?

We go back to the UK in May. We have a three week tour, and then I think we’re going to be moving to London, for six months to a year. We’re going back there every six weeks, and we all like it there. I’ll be looking at places to live. Things just happened for me there first.

What about long term plans for the future?

I usually look where I am, or backwards. The future’s a little frightening. I just want to be still making a living as a musician, and not have to have some terrible, depressing job. I’ve had so many of them. I don’t want to have to waitress any more. That was a very hard job for me, navigating through that many personalities in a day.