story by Don Bartlett
photo by Rachael Cassells

The gray waters of the Willamette River wind mysteriously through Portland, Oregon, before moving on down the valley to lands beyond. Its cold flow is a conspicuous constant in a city that is changing. Slowly, even grudgingly, the city is succumbing to the inevitable expansion and gentrification that has taken hold of so many of America's downtown areas. As the cafés and condominiums continue their march, everyone involved knows the routine. The artists make some noise before finally giving up and moving out. The same scene is played out in slow motion in cities across the country everyday.

But some don't move out. Driven by a romantic notion of the past, some hold on to what they still have, finding the one place in the neighborhood that somehow slipped through the cracks. These people go on, living impossibly among a world that has changed around them, a tie to a simpler time before the days of the warehouse-sized bookstores and three-dollar cups of coffee.

Matt Ward is one of those people. His forthcoming record, Transistor Radio, is lo-fi homage to the early days of radio and, by extension, to the days before the word "music" was followed by "industry". It is a sonic snapshot of the days when an oversized radio was the centerpiece of a living room, streaming in folk and blues music from parts unknown. Designed to be played as vinyl would be, with a distinct "side a" and a "side b", the record is a perfect showcase for Ward's understated Tom Waits-meets-Nick Drake vocal style. His light-as-air acoustic fingerpicking is bolstered by heavyweight guest appearances by Howie Gelb, My Morning Jacket's Jim James, and Jenny Lewis of Rilo Kiley. The result is an inspired collection of minimalist folk that has the confidence to utilize silence as another musical instrument.

WARD'S INNER VIEW "It's definitely an insular, naïve, ignorant little world, but I'm happy in it and I don't want it to change. I have to protect it."

Speaking to Chicago Innerview from his Portland home, Ward admits that the album is also a reaction of sorts to modern radio. "Something I've noticed over the last couple of years is this great divide over how I feel about the radio, because I've always had a huge passion for it and looked at radio with this romantic idea of what it can achieve and how it was when I was younger and first discovering music. So there's this huge divide between how I used to feel about it and how I feel about it now. It's very clear to me that something is going to break soon if it hasn't already. It's become just a form of advertising for corporations. So this record just comes from memories of radio, songs that have dealt with radio or were inspired by radio in one form or another," he says.

"In general the process is getting inspiration from older records, older sounds, and older production styles and then turning them into songs. That basically happens in my basement with a four track. It's definitely an insular, naïve, ignorant little world, but I'm happy in it and I don't want it to change. I have to protect it," Ward says, with the sort of quiet confidence that doesn't even hint at arrogance. "There are a lot of things in the music business that want to infiltrate that emotion or that passion that you once had for your hobby or your vocation, and I've learned that it's important to create a sort of shell around that."

The notion that Ward holds on to so dearly is radio as a pipeline to a vast and exciting world of new sounds, new voices and new experiences. Though he recognizes this idea is all but extinct, when asked about its future he chooses to be an optimist. "I still believe that community radio is making a difference," he explains. "It's hard to see what's exactly around the bend but I feel like satellite radio or internet radio could be the medium that eventually allows for new voices and new forms of thought the way the cable became a necessity in the world of television. Some kind of revolution is around the bend."

Until it gets here, pull up a chair to Transistor Radio and have a listen. The world is changing, but M. Ward is going to hold on to the past just a little longer, for all of us.

M. Ward :: Schubas :: February 25.