John Cowan

John Cowan

JOHN COWAN HIMSELF
New Grass Revival Singer Strikes Out on His Own
John Cowan has walked a long and winding road from his singing duties with New Grass Revival to his debut as a solo artist, but the ten-year trek has been worth the wait. On the self-titled JOHN COWAN, the singer explores a host of original songs alongside a chilling interpretation of Merle Travis's "Dark as a Dungeon" and an adventurous instrumental, "Sligo," that recalls the glory days of New Grass. From his home outside Nashville, Cowan talked to David McGee about his journeys, both physical and spiritual, and getting back to what matters most.

bn.com: You have had opportunities to do solo work since New Grass broke up, but nothing really panned out until now. What came together that made it finally happen?

John Cowan: The first couple of years after New Grass broke up, even during the time I was signed to Atlantic as a rock act, I just stayed close to home. I got sober in '87, so I had about three years sobriety. Having been in New Grass for 16 years, that was my identity, my world, even though I knew I wanted to do this other thing. But I really just laid low and did service work here in this community. For about five years I worked with kids who were physically and mentally abused. Show business is the opposite of that; it's this unending, narcissistic highway. Working with kids really helped me out in a lot of ways. It got me grounded and rooted in my community and gave me another sense of myself that I had never explored before. A quick answer to your question is that I just ran out of room. What happened was I started playing in Ben Wisch's band about three or four years ago. We started out playing a lot of the same places we played in New Grass and playing that kind of music. I reacquainted myself not only with old friends but made some new friends. And I finally realized, this is my home; this is where I need to be. This is what works. There's something about my voice singing with acoustic instruments that...I don't know. I just felt like, okay, I'm home now. This is where I need to be. It's taken me a long time to get there.

bn: You hit a lot of stylistic touchstones through the album. It doesn't sound like you're casting about for a style.

JC: That's really what we did in New Grass Revival. We played contemporary music with traditional instruments. One of the first New Grass singles was "Ain't That Peculiar" by Marvin Gaye. It started out with mandolin and congas. I've always done this kind of stuff. So what I did was bring forward all the New Grass stuff and then all the music that's ever affected me. I think the thread that runs through it is my voice, obviously, binding it together. Finally we decided we want to do it this way. The attitude was the same as we had in New Grass: This is good; it doesn't have to be categorized if it's really good. The response I'm getting to this record is that it stands up to repeat listenings. It's not the same record over and over again, not the same song done three different ways.

bn: "Dark as a Dungeon" is an old and revered country song by Merle Travis. How does it fit into your vision for this album?

JC: I started doing that song after New Grass broke up. The melody of the song and the message of the song is so haunting. So I started screwing around with it once and thought, "What if there was no time in the verses -- if it was just a gospel reading of this song?" I just kind of went out there on the verses and sang it kind of obbligato with no accompaniment other than guitar, and people would sort of lose their cookies. It didn't matter what else I did, that's the song people would mention to me. So I've been doing the song for ten years. I did it in Sam Bush's band, and whenever I had opportunities to sing anywhere I'd do it. I felt like, finally, I needed to put this on an album.

bn: One of the most emotional moments on the album is "This River," a moving, meditative, spiritual-styled piece that you cowrote. What's the story behind that song?

JC: I met a guy named Joe in Narcotics Anonymous in about 1990. He had moved here from Arkansas to be a musician. He was shooting cocaine, and his life had completely derailed. He ended up asking me to be his sponsor, which is kind of a paternal role -- somebody who helps you work the steps of AA or NA. He was singularly the most important man in my life ever, besides my father. He wasn't famous, he had his own business, and he just was a complete jewel. One night I was playing a festival in Nashville. Joe and his family lived way out in the country, about 30 miles from Nashville. After the show we all went out to eat, and then my wife and I went home. I got a call at four in the morning, telling me that Joe's car had been hit by a drunk driver, and Joe and his oldest son had been killed. That was a heartbreaking moment in my life. It's not something I'll ever get over. The guy I wrote that song with had also just lost a friend. We both wanted to write something that was real subtle, not "I miss you, I love you." At the end of the song, the verse says, "When I die, take my ashes to the shore/and let the river flow." That's all about Joe.

bn: In the last year or so bluegrass has experienced a real resurgence. How do you account for that? Why is bluegrass suddenly more popular?

JC: In my heart of hearts I don't think blues or bluegrass is ever going to be huge. And I don't think it should be. Any more than I think jazz or classical should be. Because I don't think it's for everybody. It's too personal. Now, the wider acceptance it gains the better, because I want all these artists who toil year after year because they love music to have a quality of life. In that regard, the bigger it gets the happier I'll be. I just don't think it will ever be huge, or should be. When I was growing up I'd listen to Eric Clapton, and in interviews he would talk about B.B. King or Albert King or Robert Johnson, and I ended up finding out who those artists were. I think that's the same thing that's happening with bluegrass, with Steve Earle bringing that music to his fans. Anything that leads people to the boiled-down, rawest form of it all is good.

bn: Where do you go from here?

JC: I just want to keep making music that matters. That was the thing that was nice about New Grass. Our relationship to our audience was very personal. It wasn't about this year's model. I just want to keep being able to create. We all tend to get serious about it and about ourselves, but the fact of the matter is it's not me. I'm just a vessel that God pours his love through. That's the deal.

bn: Are you looking forward to the next solo album?

JC: There's a concept record I want to do. I've really been a student of black gospel music, and I want to do this record where I get Mavis Staples and Al Green and pair them with the Nashville Bluegrass Band. I want those two worlds to meet. I've got all the songs; the only thing I haven't done is record it.

bn: You should stop everything and go do that right now.

JC: I'm big on it. It's going to be a bit of an event record.

David McGee