It must be hard living for an aspiring songwriter with a pedigree marked by the names “Townes”” and “Earle.”” It’’s no wonder it took this Southern son time to realise it’’s not his role to try to imitate these roots. After a misspent youth trying to find his voice in various bands, Earle rid himself of his self-destructive ways. Without these “high” expectations,” he focused on the songs. The result is a dazzling debut marked by loneliness and loss. Earle’’s voice is tender and shares more similarities with Hank Williams than his dad. By mining old-time country traditions and mixing in a sprinkling of acoustic blues, the 25-year-old hits all the right notes. “Lone Pine Hill”” is a haunting Civil War ballad that also resonates as a modern parable about the costs of war. On “Who Am I to Say,”” the sober songwriter confronts his past, quietly asking: “Who cares where you find comfort/I’’m no one to deny anybody what they need to take them through a night.”” Put this disc on and get lost in its powerful pull of storied songs sure to get you through the night. This is music from the side of Nashville that really matters.

The Good Life has a real old-timey feel to it. Was this intentional?
The way I write songs, that’’s just the way it comes out. I’’ve never had to try to make songs sound old. For me, it’’s just a sensibility, as far as songs go, and what I’’ve paid attention to in my life.

Is there a song on the new record that you are most proud of?
I love “Hard Living.”” I wrote it when I was 17-years-old and it’’s one that made it through all of these years.

How do you fit into Nashville?
I do my best not to fit into this town. The problem is they don’t make country music on Music Row anymore. It’s always been a singer-songwriter town, it’s just unfortunate the Music Row machine corrupts many of them and turns them into douche bags overnight by getting them to write crap for Kenny Chesney and Toby Keith, stuff like “She Thinks My Tractor’s Sexy.”” There is a lot more to this town than the Row, but it’’s still a shark tank. People come here with high hopes and usually six months later you see them running out of town with their tail between their legs.

What was it like recording at House of David?
Working in House of David was amazing. I really like it a lot and plan to keep making records at that studio for a while. I think the whole thing was easy to do, as we brought the right songs, put them on the table, got the right musicians and we didn’t have to cull them too much. They got the idea how the songs represented themselves. We made this record really fast; it was the only thing that was kind of headache about it. We tracked, mixed and mastered this record in seven days. We did it in December and it’s coming out in March. We got with the right label, who said they could move it fast and we said we could make it fast, so we pulled about four 16-hour days in the studio tracking, mixing and mastering and then had a day or two off.

Some of the songs on The Good Life were written many years ago. Did that help when you entered the studio?
That definitely helped. Also, I’’m not a hands-off songwriter. When I’’m writing songs, I think in terms of more traditional country music and more traditional forms no matter what they are, whether it’’s blues or country music. [On] all those old country records, the steel parts answered the lyrics and the piano parts answered the steel and stuff like that, so I tend to have a pretty precise design of what everything is going to be as I’’m writing these songs. With the lyrics, there are certain notes and feels you get from spinning an instrument around in your head that can really help with the vibe of a song. Unfortunately for me, I’’m always thinking and sometimes that backs me into a corner. But when it came to making this record, it was a matter of everything coming together quick and right that created the vibe of this record.

Most of these songs, like “Hard Living,” are autobiographical in nature? Does that define your songwriting approach?
Most of my songs are, except for when it comes to story songs like “Long Pine Hill”” and “The Ghost of Virginia.”” Those were study songs, stories that I made up, but I’’m a big Civil War buff, so when it comes to story songs usually those are based on historic things, but not historical fact. When it comes to the regular songs, I try not to write about anything I don’’t know about. You’’ll never hear me write a song about ploughing a damn field because I ain’’t never ploughed no damn field and I’’m scared of cows, so there aren’’t going to be any farmhand songs coming out of me unless it’’s a story song where I’’m the narrator. That is one of the things that irritates the shit out of me about a lot of the old-time music being made these days. It’’s these kids that are younger or a few years older than me and they are writing this crap, these songs that are absolutely unreachable. You hear them usually what they are doing is cutting and pasting already written songs in the first place —they are writing songs about ploughing fields and the dustbowl, shit like that. You know what, write a song that has a ’98 Ford Taurus in it and that’’s where you are going to find your ground because that’’s what you know. Sometimes I stop myself from doing it. I’’m writing a murder ballad right now where I think for once the girl is going to get the guy. It is based in a mountain town, but it’’s based in modern times. The kid drives a ragged-ass 1982 Camaro and works at the Eastman Kodak factory in East Tennessee.

So, when writing these story songs, it’s more about reinterpreting and modernising age-old tales?
That’’s what Springsteen did to Woody Guthrie’’s music and that’’s what Dylan did to Woody Guthrie’’s music and that’’s what made them the writers that they were. They didn’’t sit down thinking they were writing the Great American folk song. As Dylan said in No Direction Home, he was not creating anything new, he was just working with existing forms and putting them into the words of the times.

That has to be toughest thing, putting your own stamp on the music, especially considering your name and the pedigree you’ve been given.
As far as the whole pedigree thing goes, I think everyone who interviews me goes, “you probably are going to hate this but I’m going to ask you a question about your dad and a question about Townes Van Zandt.”” That never bothers me because if my dad was terrible, I might have a problem with people bringing him up. I know people do and will and have in the past had big expectations of what I was going to be, but their expectations were more expecting me to show up with a bandana tied around my wrist with a beard and to sing with a gruff voice. It’’s more of a visual thing, what they are expecting. Where my dad came to a fork in the road and went pretty modern – —took old styles and modernised them -— I came to the same fork in the road and I turned the opposite direction and took it back. Musically, I’’m a lot more of a traditional musician and I think it surprises many people at first when I come out and do that. In my early years of writing, I really struggled with it, as when I was a teenager I was trying to write the great American folk song. I thought I had to live up to Townes Van Zandt and Steve Earle and all the other people who came before me, like David Olney. I thought I had to live up to all these people. It was a really miserable existence feeling like I had something so big, such a towering thing to live up to and I think it was when I got over that, when I finally got cleaned up and I had glimpses of it —because I’’d written some of the songs before I got cleaned up —but it was after I got cleaned up that I said I’’m just going to let my songs do what they do. They are going to come out how they come out and I’’m going to go out and represent those songs the best that I can and not worry about the great American folk song, not worry about my last name or any other names tagged onto me, just give it hell.

Why do you think Canada has a love-in for traditional music?
Canada has the same grasp that Europe has for more traditional music. For some reason, there is only a line that divides the United States with Canada, but it’’s like when you cross that line into Canada the music that I make or my father makes or Townes makes or Guy Clark makes, that music is worth a whole lot more up in Canada with y’’all. It’’s one of those unexplainable things. Canadians and Europeans appreciate Southern American music more than anyone in America. I guess you’’ve got to be an import. We even have those dividing lines in the States, as I always do well in New York. I’’ve got a really thick Southern accent and I talk a lot on stage and I’’m pretty animated on stage and so it’’s almost like they are seeing something they have never seen before. I might as well be speaking in German.

You’d expect that Canadian indie musician Luke Doucet would log serious mileage on a cross-continent tour. But how about 100K per week on his legs?It’s all part of staying happy, says the five-time marathoner.

Luke Doucet has an insatiable appetite to achieve. Whether it’s honing his guitar chops or improving his last running times, the songwriter is driven by a passion for perfection. Currently in the midst of a North American tour with Whitehorse (the duo he plays in with wife Melissa McClelland), the musician is a relatively new runner. He started running three and a half years ago. At the end of his first week of running every day, he ran a half-marathon. Since then he’s completed five marathons and three half-marathons. In April, he was scheduled to compete in the Boston Marathon for the first time.

When the songwriter and I connected, he and McClelland had just crossed into the U.S., driving to Minneapolis, Minn., where Whitehorse was playing a gig the next night. Running is therapeutic, Doucet says. “It’s the most enjoyable part of my day,” he says. “Melissa will tell you that I never come home from a run in a worse mood than when I left. I’m always a nicer person – a happier person. It sounds like something that would be hard to squeeze in when you are on tour, but it’s actually become an essential part of my mental health.”

How does the musician squeeze in these training sessions, logging between 90k and 100k per week, with long runs up to 33k?

“I get a lot of help,” Doucet says. “We arrive in a new city in time to load in. In the hour it takes for the road crew to load the gear into the venue and set up before sound check, I can go for a good run.”

Doucet admits this rush to squeeze in a run is a blessing in disguise. “I’m usually conscious of the fact that I have to be back for sound check in 45 minutes,” he adds. “As a result, I tend to run fast because I’m trying to keep up with my schedule.

While Doucet does not listen to music during a run, it does inspire his writing. “I run quiet, but as a result, I write a lot of music when I’m running because it’s a very rhythmic thing. You’re breathing in time with the pace of your feet, so, in effect, your whole body is dancing,” he says. “I find running is a very musical experience.”

Songs such as “Devil’s Got a Gun,” from the latest Whitehorse record, The Fate of the World Depends on This Kiss, was a product of running. “I had the guitar hook in my head for literally years before Melissa and I actually sat down and put words and chords together,” he reveals. “Our last record, Emerald Isle, which is about running to some degree, was also written during one of my runs.”

Last fall, in between Whitehorse gigs, Doucet ran both the Philadelphia Marathon and the Atlantic City Half-Marathon. In Atlantic City, he surprised himself with a personal best of 1:21, good for second place in the 30–39 category. “At about the eight-mile mark, my Nike+ watch started showing consistent declines in my average pace,” he recalls. “I freaked out because I felt like I was really pushing. So I pushed harder until about Mile 11 when I realized my watch had lost the satellite. Then I really panicked because all of a sudden I was running blind. I had no idea what kind of time I was running, so I pushed even harder. I had no idea I was anywhere near the front until they announced the winners.”

Doucet closes our conversation by crediting running coach Tania Jones who helped him train for several marathons in the past two years. “I suffer from a couple of problems. As a new runner and someone who approaches things ambitiously, I run the risk of injuring myself by being cocky,” he concludes. “Having somebody like Tania in my corner has been really wonderful.”

“I’ve been broken too, how about you?” That’s the theme of Ryder’s new record. Following the success of If Your Memory Serves You Well, which went gold and won a Juno, the 25-year-old returns with a disc that oozes angst. The cathartic collection finds the singer with a broken heart searching for the “truth” that exists deep within us all.” Rather than running from it, she confronts it with music. Right from opener “Sweeping the Ashes,”” one feels this anger and sadness, and these feelings are sustained throughout the remaining 12 songs. Closer “Dark as the Black”” epitomizes the emptiness Ryder felt when she penned these songs. The melancholic, acoustically-inclined ballad, with its “one world/one love”” message of hope, hints at U2 and Bob Marley. And, like those prophetic artists, Ryder shows the world is in pain through well-crafted lyrics. She sings, “There’s a crack in the ground from old New York all the way to Minnesota/I can hear by the way 10,000 lakes are screaming for more water.”” Ryder’’s message is that our world is like our broken hearts: it’’s cracked and can’’t be mended until we acknowledge its sickness. Deep, yes, but delivered with her world-weary voice it’’s a message that hits home, showing the continuing maturation of this expressive songwriter.

Why is this record filled with so much angst?
It’’s based on things I’’ve experienced in the last little while. The world only caters to the fact that people are supposed to be happy and enjoy life, and sadness and anger are not really dealt with. It’’s a painful world; there are a lot of things going on in the world that are really painful. There are a lot of broken hearts walking around in denial. I noticed in myself there was a lot of that going on. It was okay to be happy but it wasn’t okay to be sad. It’’s one of those things that before the beginning of time, you just want to be happy all the time and I think the only way to achieve that true satisfaction with your life is to acknowledge your true feelings. This is a record of acknowledging where I was coming from and what I was going through at the time. It’’s been a very successful couple of years and I’m doing what I’ve always wanted to do with my life: perform, live and tour around the world and play music. How great could that be? It’’s been amazing but then there have been all these ideals that can be shattered, like the idea that being a touring musician is a dream and it’’s all just a party and a lot of fun. But there is another side to it. You are going out there and sharing your very personal, true places of yourself with other people in the hopes that you can connect and communicate and feel like you are part of the same family. There is nothing like having someone know where you are coming from but that can also be painful to consciously be in that conversation.

It’’s a little ironic then that Is It O.K. was recorded at the same studio where Rumors was born.
Absolutely. I was down to two producers for the record, both who I really loved. They were awesome people and I couldn’t choose between them. I was out with one of them and I sent a little message out to the universe while he was up getting our food. “You have to help me out here, universe, and let me know if this is or isn’t the producer I’’m going to be working with,” I asked.” He sat back down, we started talking and I said my favourite record is Fleetwood Mac’’s Rumors and he said, “no way, that was recorded in my studio,”” so it was a done deal. Another of my favourite producers, T-Bone Burnett has a space in his studio as well. Later, I learned the Maharajah recorded there with the Beatles and the Stones; it was pretty awesome.

Did you feel like you were channelling Stevie Nicks a little?
Not really but I definitely felt the history in the building. There was a magic that was there that you could almost catch it and taste it. The history in a building is something I have always been intrigued with and I’’ve always been pulled to; I can feel the energy of what has gone on before. When I got there I definitely felt that and it was a huge inspiration. Recording the songs in Stevie Nicks’’ vocal booth was absolutely surreal; they lit candles for me and there were stained glass and mirrors everywhere. It was a total throwback; it was amazing. It felt like a vacation to me, like I was inside a movie.

What’’s the significance of the title, Is It Ok?
It’s really about connecting, taking the time to connect with that inner voice to really find the truth to what is going on outside of you. You need to take time and make space to have quiet time and listen to that part of yourself to see what’’s going on and live a life of truth.

Tell me about album closer “Dark as the Black.”
I wrote several of those songs after I had just lost someone in my life who was really close to me. Bonnie O’Donnell, who was my co-manager; she was an amazing woman, died young of pneumonia at 32. It was very sudden and very tragic. It totally threw my world for an absolute loop and still has. It’’s very odd to not have her around because we worked together for about six years and we were close friends. That led to an onset with a lot of my connection with sadness and darkness. That particular song starts out about a relationship and how there is sadness when you have your heart broken. Then, the second verse is about that relationship in regards to the place you are at in your life: your relationship with your surroundings, your home. The last verse is about how that is a total microcosm of how the world works and how the world is in a lot of pain. Yes, there is a lot of good in the world and a lot of amazing things happening but there is this overriding sadness and sickness that is happening and has been for a long time. You can’t get any darker than a really deep hole. You can’’t see the end of it [but] it just needs a little spark of light to change it. Everything in the world that is alive has a voice and that’s the line about “10,000 lakes screaming for more water.” Connecting our personal experience in our body to that of the world, it is really the same thing. We can find all the answers to what is going on out there inside ourselves and that can be really painful, but I think that is the most important and courageous thing that we can do.

You’’re already a seasoned songwriter at 25. Do you have any reflections on your career?
The more I do this the younger I feel because there is that saying, and I don’t even know if it is a real saying, but it’’s something I thought of that I’’m sure has been out there for a long time: the more that I’m alive the less I know and the more I think I know the less I know. I’m finding that with being a musician and touring and just being alive in these times.

There are photos of Toronto’’s Dakota Tavern in the liner notes. Any significance?
Dear friends of mine own it and I was there a few days after they opened it. I was sad I missed the exact opening day, as I was on tour. It means a lot to me. That’’s where I go when I want to see my friends when I’’m home from tour because I know they’’ll be there.

With performances on David Letterman, The Tonight Show With Jay Leno, and The Late Late Show With Craig Ferguson behind him, plus rave reviews already in for his major label debut State Of Mind, New York-based songsmith Raul Midon continues to turn heads. His live performances are known to leave people breathless and hypnotized with his soulful delivery and accomplished percussive finger-style guitar playing. Midon’s father was a professional dancer, originally from Argentina and he tried to get his son to dance, but Raul was too self-conscious. Instead, he admits that he banged on things as a kid and that’s how he developed his unique guitar style, along with a lifelong love for songs and songwriting.

ChartAttack: As a blind person, how do you “see” the world?

Raul Midon: The closest way that I see the world other than living in it is through literature. In literature pictures have to be described with words, so it really helps me imagine a lot of things, which is what you have to do when you are blind. In a way, it’s also a disadvantage as a songwriter because I tend to be very psychological as a writer. I mean, I ask myself, “Can I write about a sunset if I’ve never seen one?” The answer is that the sunset has to be symbolic in some way for me to write about it… maybe it always is anyway. I know that I’ve worked with DJs and they are always looking out and seeing how the audience is responding to something and performers do that. Maybe it’s better to just be yourself and let them respond the way they are going to respond.

What makes a great song?

I think there has to be a central idea that you’re talking about… an idea with a twist. I always like to be surprised. I like good melodies somewhere in there and then the twist in the lyrics, a song that you thought was about a great relationship turns out to be about a relationship that never was, anything like that is something that I love. And I just love great wordsmiths.[Midon quotes the Cole Porter love song “Laura”]”Laura is a face in the misty light/ footsteps that you hear down the hall/ a laugh that floats on a summer night/ that you can never quite recall”
That’s an incredible lyric.

Writing a song is not writing poetry, the words have to sound good and they have to sing good. You may have a lyric that is very meaningful, but it doesn’t sound good. There is a lyric that I love from Tapestry. I always love the song “Too Late”… “Something inside has died and I can’t hide and I just can’t fake it…” It just sounds great to sing, it’s a great lyric.

Who influences you outside the world of music?

I’ve always been influenced by people who transcended. I mean Martin Luther King knew he was going to give his life for what he did. Malcolm X, Gandhi is a transcendent person, maybe some people who died for what they believed in. It wasn’t a media hype thing. What is so ironic about it is that they died; yet they are immortal. They are going to be influencing people from now until the end of time.

When I speak with Rhett Miller he’s enjoying some rare quiet time at his home in upstate New York’s Hudson Valley. Things are especially quiet today because his wife took their two-year-old son Max and one of his friends off to the mall to get their pictures taken. As 2005 draws to a close, Miller can especially use this R&R since next year is set to be a busy one. The singer/songwriter is currently taking a break from his Old 97’s mates, but that doesn’t mean his muse is slowing down. Miller will release his second solo disc, tentatively titled The Believer, on the relaunched Forecast/Verve label at the end of February. He’ll tour behind this release with a new hand-picked band. He’s excited to be on a label that was once home to seminal artists Frank Zappa and Velvet Underground one – of his favourite bands growing up. Miller and the Old 97’s also recently played a part in the romantic comedy The Break Up, starring Vince Vaughn and Jennifer Aniston. The brainy Miller took time recently to chat with ChartAttack about this Hollywood experience, music and politics, amongst other things.

ChartAttack.com: Tell us about your experience working on the upcoming Vince Vaughn/Jennifer Aniston romantic comedy The Break Up?

Rhett Miller: The penultimate scene takes place at an Old 97’s show in Chicago where [Aniston’s character] gets stood up and sits in the front row of the balcony crying. It was pretty cool… it was kind of a big deal. It comes out the same week as my solo record, so I figure it will do some good for the whole enterprise. Vince Vaughn is a fan and the guys he wrote the movie with are fans and apparently they listened to us a lot as they were writing the movie. The Old 97’s performed four songs in front of like 1,200 extras. It was bigger than filming a video because there were all the extras and Jennifer Aniston’s security team were presidential in scope. It felt like a big deal because this many years into your career without having any gold records or huge success, it was nice for the little perks to come along and remind you that you haven’t been entirely forgotten.

What inspires you to do a solo record?

I’ve always known that I would do solo stuff because the Old 97’s are such an opinionated, democratic situation. There is a lot of “no” that got said. There still is, but that’s the nature of a band because it’s the four different takes on what sounds good that makes a specific sound. So, I finally got to do it because the other guys were starting to have kids and we had been together long enough that it felt like we didn’t have to be constantly out there killing ourselves on the road. Artistically it’s been great because I get to do all sorts of stuff. On this new record coming out in February there are a lot of strings and some bigger, grander sounding moments on it that I never would have been able to do with the Old 97’s. It has kept the whole career fresh for me because I can do everything… I feel lucky that I get to have both.

How do you feel about Texan George W?

I don’t know if you’ve noticed but our president is a joke … it’s a little embarrassing. While I’m a proud Texan, I’m not so proud of the Lone Star State representative in the White House. I felt so bad during Bush’s first term when one of your politicians [Carolyn Parrish, a former liberal who remained in office as an independent] got drummed out of office because she called Bush an idiot.

How do you reconcile your personal politics with the music?

I don’t talk politics at Old 97’s shows. I’ve done it a few times and I ran into trouble. I did contribute a few songs to a pro-John Kerry, anti-Bush project before the last election. It’s a weird time now where you can point out so many things going wrong in our world, but I don’t feel you can do anything about it. And, frankly, I’ve never felt like it was the job of the musician to constantly comment on society. I would rather write an op-ed piece for The New York Times, rather than sing about it. I don’t like to listen to songs about politics, so I wouldn’t want to sing them. I just sing about girls and stuff like that.

What do you like to read and where do you find inspiration for your songs?

I like stories… the arc of a good story. You can’t escape the truth and there is a lot of non-fiction out there that is interesting and moving. But I really like fiction, contemporary stuff like DeLillo and David Foster Wallace and older stuff like Nabokov. I read a lot, but there is so much in life that you go through personally and you watch your friends and loved ones go through that there is never a shortage of fodder.