Interview: Josh Ritter on writing the first record of his adult life
Ragged Words met with Josh Ritter ostensibly to talk about the release of his fifth album, but we soon found ourselves having desultory discussions on literature, society and history with the thirty-three year-old singer-songwriter. Looking for all the world like he’s stepped right out of one of his own songs in tweed trousers, a red check shirt and waistcoat, Ritter cuts the figure of a spruced-up farmhand breezing into town for the day. Humble, soft-spoken and lighthearted, he is also instantly likeable.
The Idaho native’s new album ‘So Runs The World Away’ is his weightiest tome to date, and Ragged Words was wondering if this might have had anything to do with its being written concurrently with his first novel, ‘Bright’s Passage’. But first, with the adopted Irishman having kicked off a whirlwind transatlantic tour at Dublin’s brand new Grand Canal Theatre the night before, we had to know - how was it?
It was great, and kinda crazy, man! I’ve played bigger shows outdoors before, but never indoors. It was a big, big place and we were playing a lot of new songs, a lot of fairly dense new songs, and there was quite a lot going on onstage. I actually don’t remember too much of it; it was kind of a blur, which I think is good.
The album was released in Ireland ten days before it was in the US, so to what do we owe the privilege?
I’ve always worked with Dave O’ Grady at Independent Records. Since the beginning he’s been one of my biggest supporters, and we work together really well. He’s also a great friend of mine… plus, Ireland is so important to me in my life and in what I’ve been doing, I feel like it’s the first place I need to give account of myself.
How do you feel about the whole ‘adopted son of Ireland’ label?
I think it’s great! I mean, a lot of stuff that’s happened in my career has happened here first, long before anything started happening for me in The States, The UK, Canada or anywhere else. It’s given me a chance to think about what things actually mean – were they as important as I once thought they were? Things that are important to understand in your own life, you know? Like, I used to think it would be awesome to have my face on a bus. And then when my face was on a bus, I knew I had just paid to have my face put on a bus. Anybody can have their face on a bus really, so it helps to be able to see through some of that stuff that can be a little distracting otherwise.
When The Frames invited you to play In Ireland, did you just see it as a potential life experience, or did you view it as a progressive career move?
It was definitely a career thing. Before that, I was just doing open mic nights. The first time I played in Whelans it was me, Gemma Hayes, Mic Christopher, and then Glen (Hansard). There were so many acts and so many people there. I had never played to that kind of crowd, and after playing open mics for years to, like, twenty-five other musicians (that Whelans gig) was as big as I could really conceive of. That room seemed enormous, people were hanging off of stuff, yelling at you and really telling you exactly what they thought, and expecting you to answer them. It instantly felt like a real relationship, and it was really inspiring. As soon as you get off stage you know you want more, you know you want to do that again.
Was boredom the main reason behind your change in style over the years, from the quite humble arrangements on 2003’s Hello Starling to the bigger, brassier numbers that seem to dominate more recent albums?
Yeah, I happen to think that one of the good and motivating things in life can be boredom. It’s a cross to bear in one way, but it also keeps you moving forward in that as soon as you’re done with one thing, you want to try something different and new. A lot of the time it’s really frustrating because you can’t always try something new, it doesn’t always come to you right away. Also I’ve always considered myself a touring artist who records, because I spend so much time on the road, and at most two weeks in the recording studio. So my learning curve has always been much more about learning how to perform out on the road. A result of this is that it’s taken me quite a long time to realise the potential of the studio, and to really love that experience as much (as playing live). I think I’ve finally learned that now thanks largely to Sam (Kassirer), my producer, and the band that I play with.
You were writing your first novel and working on this album at the same time – did that have any impact on the songs? It certainly sounds like there’s more of a narrative arc than a poetic impetus at work here.
Yeah, one of the big discoveries I had while writing these songs – and one that I think I carried over into the writing of Bright’s Passage– was that I realised that in a lot of my favourite songs and my favourite writing there was this joy at letting crazy things happen to various characters. A love song is nice, there’s always time for a good love song about the blissful moment when everything seems to be working out right, and that’s great, but it’s a lot of fun to write about other things that happen too. Somebody like Flannery O’Connor, for instance, who was just sticking a doll full of pins; that can be a really fun, happy sort of experience to write about, even if it’s not good for the character, you know?
How do you feel about the new album?
I feel like this is the first record of my adult life, my first as a guy who is gonna be doing this for a long time. I feel very strongly that I’ve come through a lot of things to make a record where I don’t feel like I’m courting anyone… I feel really good about it, and I feel really good about what’s gonna come later.
2006’s The Animal Years contained some social commentary, which led some to label you a protest singer. How did you feel about that?
I get bugged by somebody onstage with a microphone who is trying to teach me something. An artist is still a human being going through life, and they don’t know anything more than the next guy, and my problems are no more or less important than someone who does something completely different. What do I know about anything that they don’t know already? The only thing I feel I can do is try to phrase things in a certain way that helps to explain how I’m feeling better, and if somebody else agrees with me then maybe my explanation will help, but I certainly don’t think that music is any good when it tries to educate.
There’s nothing overtly political on this album – is that because you feel that things have changed for the better since the time of The Animal Years?
I think it’s an amazing, exciting time. This whole 21st century thing is… I can’t imagine wanting to be alive at a more exciting time; everything is happening – the thrill of the last couple of years is indescribable. It’s been amazing to be a part of as a human being, not just as an artist. The Animal Years came out of trying to figure things out and talk about stuff without wanting to preach to anybody. Music made in the service of politics makes for bad music – it cheapens both. And watching all the stuff that’s going on in the world, with the various economies that have collapsed etc., I feel very happy that we have a congress and a president that are not gonna be showboating, but are out there making choices I trust in. They may not end up being ones that I always like politically, but then what do I know?
After your first two albums in particular, it was common for comparisons to be made between your songwriting style and that of Bob Dylan. Do you feel your style has evolved to the point that such comparisons can’t be so easily made these days?
I hope so. I think you’re always going to be influenced by certain artists or sounds, but hopefully over time you continue to move in your own direction. But that takes time. I’ve always felt that comparisons are good if they help people find your music, but if you look at someone like Dylan, the only way to judge his music is over the course of seventy years of songwriting.
Well, here’s to Mr. Ritter enjoying just as long a career. As far as establishing his own sound goes, one that is distinct from his influences, ‘So Runs The World Away’ is another assured leap in the right direction. Following a vinyl-only release to coincide with this year’s Record Store Day (April 17th), it was released the following week here in Ireland and is out everywhere else this week. Read our verdict here.









In your words