Tift Merritt

"Another Country” sounded familiar, but I just couldn't place where I'd heard it before. A clear-voiced singer, sensitive lyrics, music that alternately chugged and soared. Joni Mitchell? Emmylou Harris? Damned if I could place her.

A few listenings in, Tift Merritt's lineage no longer mattered. Only the music did. I didn't immediately get the words --- they're about love and loss and distance, and because they're charming and poetic, they go down easy --- but the tunes were fatally catchy. I found myself humming along and calling out the refrains. Not like me.

My reaction to Tift Merritt was also unsettling. She's got a Grammy nomination and praise from the likes of Emmylou Harris on her bio, but she seems more like a kid just starting out than a seasoned artist. In her 30s? With her own show on NPR? For that matter, a year in Paris? No way.

I had a bunch of questions. Ms. Merritt had the answers. And then some.

What were you doing five minutes before you decided to go to Paris and write the songs that became this CD?

I'd been on tour for a year, traveling in a van --- five guys and me --- and sometimes playing empty clubs, where you have to pretend everything's okay and cry in private. And you get ready in a rock 'n roll dressing room, with graffiti on the walls and scary corners you can't look in. And you see the irony. How could you not, when you put your makeup on looking into a mirror that says MILLER LITE.

Who do you blame?

It always ends with me.

And the moment of decision?

I was going to England to tour. I thought, 'I'm a grown woman. I can go to Paris and get an apartment and a piano.'

Parlez-vous français?

I studied French in school. And I'd always had a connection to France; my first crush was on my third grade French teacher. I'd say I understood French as I understand music --- instinctively.

No sane person could like French rock. What did you listen to in Paris?

I was cut off from most music. I had some music on my computer, but no iPod.

Did you have any connections to French musicians and writers?

No. And that didn't change much --- I was mostly anonymous. I didn't dress up and go out. I just wrote what I experienced day-to-day, which was the first time in a long time that I'd done that. And to do that in the most beautiful city in the world! In Paris, they spend four hours on a dress the way I spend four hours on a line. The windows are open, people live in the street, you get little glimpses of their lives. And it's very comfortable to be a woman alone there --- you feel safe.

What was your day like?

I didn't think what I was doing. I took pictures, wrote, sang. It was all a nice surprise.

You've written about a day when you filled page after page. Should I be jealous?

I was tired. I'd finished a lot of writing, and I felt like I'd overshot it --- you come back to real life and find yourself crossing against the lights and staring blankly at vegetables in the market because all your perspective is used up.

I'd start feeling paranoid about what's on my computer: What if...

I saved everything to disks --- even though my writing was a mess --- and mailed them home.

Ah, yes: home. What was it like to return to America?

In Paris, I'd been happy just doing my job. I was nervous I'd lose that feeling.

And?

It's hard. I came home and the record company dropped me. It was really lucky that I had these songs to take care of. But the way it happened, the songs took care of me.

How?

I believed in them, and it's sometimes easier to believe in your work than to believe in yourself. I'd started to think: This is stupid. I don't need an audience to be happy. I'm traipsing around the country. Not doing much to save the world. Maybe I should do something else. But I kept coming back to the songs. I needed to follow through --- and I knew I wouldn't get off so easily. And then I teamed up with Fantasy, and here we are.

“Another Country” is hard to categorize.

Thank you.

Yes, but you make it hard for yourself.

I don't sit around and choose to make this music. I do this because it's real. Do critics do this to filmmakers --- put the funny ones in the comedy box? I think it's crazy for me to edit myself so I can make it easy for others.

What are you like on stage?

Performing is a safe place for me to throw my intensity, as hard as I want.

I'm having trouble imagining that. You seem like such a...oh...little sister...a nice kid. Can you rip it up?

Hey, I don't do this job because I'm shitty at it.

Noted. What will this tour be like?

The guys. And budget motels.

But not the same as before?

This feels like a plan.  I know: The beginning of any record is sunny. But I feel... smarter.

What's this new-fangled NPR podcast about?

It's a great way to keep reading and learning and seeing how others struggle with the issues I do. I record it on my laptop, edit it on ProTools. And you can find it on Marfa Public Radio.

I hate to ask, but in an election year, people really seem to care about belief. Do you have a religious practice?

I'm a musician. Of course I have an inner life.

--- by Jesse Kornbluth, for HeadButler.com

To buy “Another Country” from Amazon.com, click here.

For Tift Merritt's MySpace page, click here.

To hear “The Spark” Tift Merritt's show on NPR,  click here.

Copyright 2008 by Head Butler Inc.