story by Sean Foran
When legendary blues guitarist Robert Johnson sold his soul to the
devil, he must have mailed Ray Lamontagne a "Get Out of Hell"
pass. The folk singer admits to "killing myself in various self-destructive
ways" before music saved his life. With last year's release,
Trouble, Lamontagne packs a lifetime worth pain and passion into a
timeless album of sweet soul redemption.
Raised by a nomadic mother, Lamontagne traveled the country, finding
shelter in cars, backyard tents, and the occasional chicken coop.
"Growing up was a very scary existence," remembered the
singer. "It exposed me early on to a lot of hard truths about
people. I was so self protective that I couldn't interact with others."
Adulthood found the New England native living in the woods, and lodging
his own family in a log cabin that he built by hand. Scraping by as
a carpenter, the singer began to write songs and perform at a local
theater. "I was scared to death," recalls Lamontagne. "I
just felt I had to find a way to express myself and get out of the
shell I was in. I came to the decision that the only way to make the
songs real was to play them in front of people."
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LAMONTAGNE'S INNER VIEW
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"I just felt I had to find a way
to express myself and get out of the shell I was in. I
came to the decision that the only way to make the songs
real was to play them in front of people."
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Self-loathing and lacking confidence, the artist struggled early
on to find his voice, which rarely rose above a whisper. "There
was a time when I was so frustrated with myself that I smashed my
acoustic to bits and didn't even think about music for six months."
Lamontagne glued together his shattered self-image and gradually
taught himself to sing from the gut. After three independent releases,
a friend passed his demo to Jamie Cerreta at Chrysalis Publishing.
Cerreta was floored, convincing Lamontagne to first record an album
and then shop for a label. Brought in to produce was Ethan Johns who
worked with the Jayhawks, Kings of Leon, and Ben Kweller. They assembled
at Sunset Sound in Los Angeles, tracking the songs live with Lamontagne
on vocals/guitar and Johns laying down the drums, bass, and piano.
In typical Johns style, the excess production was sanded away, allowing
Lamontagne's naked, fifty-grit voice to fill the album with more regret
than a church confessional could harbor.
The duo emerged from the studio with Trouble and the major labels
lined up with contracts out, pens drawn. "I think I was prepared
from just being able to tell a bullshitter from someone who's telling
you the truth," reflected the musician on the courting process.
"It made RCA an easy choice because they were very straightforward.
I felt we were both coming from the same idea that heavily promoting
this type of record really wouldn't work. It would take touring and
having people tell their friends about it. To an extent, you really
can't buy press. It takes people coming to the shows."
Trouble exudes the slow burn of another Johns production, Ryan Adams'
Heartbreaker. "I think both albums were made under similar circumstances,"
said Lamontagne. "Ryan was out of a record deal at the time and
there was no label influence over its recording. We both had very
little money, but sometimes that's the best thing."
Although Lamontagne says Trouble is simply "pieces of my experience,"
one can't help but hear the artist brush demons off his shoulders.
Throughout the album, hearts get wrecked, souls languish, and one
loyal lady gets shot. The singer, however, carries most of the emotional
burden on songs like "Hannah", telling his lover "I'll
lay down this bottle of wine, if you just be kind to me." On
tracks like "Jolene", the narrator treats morning like the
day's death, bleary eyed with remorse that he couldn't get clean to
save a relationship.
Despite his recent success, Lamontagne still claims he's "having
a hard time feeling at peace." Writing good songs and singing
them passionately are his only concerns. Attendees at past shows have
reported him actually crying onstage during cathartic moments of the
show. "I think it's pretty well known that struggles make you
stronger," said the musician. "Looking back at the last
ten years, more than anything, I'm just glad I stuck with it."
So are we.
Ray Lamontagne :: Double Door :: February 2.