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biography (from Kevin-Devine.net) "These songs helped me figure out what I thought about the last year of my life," says Kevin Devine. "I tend to write things down first and then, later, figure out what they were really about. In the last year, I got a lot a little dark with some personal things and now I'm trying to grow up a little and not be such a petulant brat. "So that's why the album is called Put Your Ghost to Rest," he continues. "Because that's sort of an imperative. I can't live with all this stuff swirling around, because then I'm not going to embrace what's in front of me. I think the songs told me a story - and after going back and listening, it's pretty heavy to feel like the album sounds as good as it does and says the things that it says." Ghost is 26-year-old Devine's major label debut, after releasing three widely-acclaimed albums on independent labels - Circle Gets the Square (2001), Make the Clocks Move (2003), and Split The Country, Split The Street (2005). These twelve songs, produced by Rob Schnapf (Elliott Smith, Beck) and featuring Devine's friends and colleagues known as the Goddamn Band, represent a sharpening of Devine's raw, evocative lyrics, and should help establish him as one of the leading songwriters of his generation. For the Brooklyn native, the album represents the culmination of several different strains in his musical upbringing. "I used to play in a band called Miracle of 86, a Replacements-ish, kind of screamy rock thing," he says. "And I dug it, but I was also writing these folkie songs that weren't really going to fly in that band, so I started to make this other thing. And both of them were doing well, and that was a really cool period of time. "Split the Country was done after the band broke up, like the hangover from that. It was more bi-polar: aggressive rock songs with fuller instrumentation, but also songs with violins and glockenspiel or just a guy with a guitar. Now this record feels like all of that smashed together, but all built around songs written on an acoustic guitar, and it seems to flow in a more cohesive way." After being noticed by a Capitol A&R representative at a show during the 2004 CMJ music festival, Devine began the process of recording an album with more time to work, a bigger budget, and an outside producer. Not just any outside producer, either. "I'm a huge fan of a lot of the stuff Rob has worked on," says Devine. "I mean, Elliott Smith - a really brilliant, gifted, singular voice who changed the way I look at writing music profoundly. Working with Rob was amazing, one of those experiences that I'll be fifty before Ill be able to fully process. I made a friend, and that's what you do this for." The seven weeks spent recording at Sunset Sound and Sound Factory in Los Angeles marked an entirely new approach for the young artist. "We really ripped the songs apart and put things back together and that was really a wonderful, new thing for me," he says. "I always thought my lyrics were really untouchable, they're so close to home for me. So the first time Rob said 'What if we took out this couplet?,' and I did it, and it made the song better, I thought, 'Well, this is why you're here.'" As Put Your Ghost to Rest came together, Devine realized that there was a through line that was emerging. He knew that he wanted to open the album with the confessional "Brooklyn Boy," a song that he wrote during last years Hotel Cafˇ tour. "I was trying to figure out a way to be unflinching about some of the experiences I had, friendships that dissolved and my role in that," he says. "After that, it moves almost chronologically to the last song, 'Heaven Bound & Glory Be,' which is about someone looking around and taking stock and being really afraid of what their government is up to - that if there's a breakdown of civility in government, it trickles down to everyday life. That song ends with cautious optimism, trying to find something in the most basic level of relating to one other person." All but one of the songs on the album were written before going into the studio, but that final addition proved to be critical. "'Go Haunt Someone Else' was the last one we put on," Devine says. "I liked the song, but I wasn't sure because, though no one else will know the person it's about, that person will. Part of what I've been doing for the last year is try to put things to rest, and this song was pretty abrasive. But one thing I love about Elliott Smith or Dylan is that ability to kill you in a lyric but have it sound so inviting. "When we did the demo and it started to become a song, it became the centerpiece of the record, even though it was the last thing I put on. It sort of tied the whole record together after starting off as an afterthought." While many of the songs on Ghost are more personal and inward-looking, some of Devine's writing also addresses political and social themes, reflecting the madness and uncertainty of our time. "I wrote 'The Burning City Smoking' during the (New York City) transit strike," he says. "That song was a person sticking his head up and saying, 'Oh, I'm not just self-involved and crazy inside - the world has gone nuts, too.' I was always very abstractly political. I listened to punk rock records and thought I could punch my time card. And then all this shit in the world made me have to sit up and pay attention, and thats a good thing. It's a scary time, so why ignore it?" In the last few years, Kevin Devine has toured extensively alongside a wide range of artists. This work demonstrates the widespread appeal and breadth of his songs, the potential now being focused and realized on Put the Ghost to Rest. This stage experience has also helped reshape some of his thinking. "Coming up in the hardcore scene in Staten Island, where I grew up, we always cultivated a real us-against-them thing," he says, "and I've learned that's really narrow and defeatist. I learned that I can go and play with these different kinds of people - with Corinne Bailey Rae or Cursive and Bright Eyes or Brand New or the Hotel Cafˇ dudes - and I'm lucky I can do that. You just do your thing, present yourself your way, and you'll be fine." - ALAN LIGHT 2005 The 25-year-old Brooklynite played some 300 shows supporting everyone from Bright Eyes and Nellie McKaye to Bob Mould and Cassandra Wilson. His flair for grafting deft wordplay to clever melodies began to earn him some acclaim for "Make the Clocks Move," his first release on Brooklyn's Triple Crown Records. He watched horrified while his country had to choose between two pro-war, pro-corporate presidential candidates and inevitably managed to pick the 'wrong' one anyway. Most devastatingly, the prolific young songwriter spent the year piecing his life back together after suddenly losing his father to a fatal stroke while touring in Germany. Kevin's response to this all this tumult was to bunker down and turn his experiences into his most compelling and far-reaching work to date: "Split The Country, Split The Street," his third and best solo album. A thoughtful, friendly indie rocker with a shock of orange hair and headful of good words, Devine has already been pegged by some as an acolyte of Elliott Smith, and his new record might start you thinking that this is going to basically be what you expected: a collection of mid-fi folk songs. That'd be before the huge drums, wall of guitars, and wailing vocals of "Cotton Crush" deliver one of the biggest explosions you'll hear this year. Fans of Kevin's prior band Miracle of 86 will be glad to find him stretching out his powerful, distinctive voice and getting back to blowing out the PA in the process. Devine is equally at home strumming an acoustic guitar or cranking through an amplifier; his words set the songs apart. Like most songwriters, Devine has a fair fascination with the themes of love and death. What is remarkable about "Split The Country, Split The Street" is how he examines the latter topic from two utterly distinct perspectives, both musically and lyrically. If "Alabama Acres" makes you want to cry to yourself alone at home, "Yr Damned Ol' Dad" is the soundtrack for a night at a whiskey bar with some good friends and a ton of blow. "I don't wanna think about the world right now/I wanna go from bar to bar and wash the taste clean out," the singer intones. "I wanna feel the way I felt when we were kids messin' around/before I thought about the world like I do now." Another more fully developed wrinkle in the songwriting this time around is Devine's embrace of social protest. The bounciest, hookiest song on the record, "No Time Flat," employs a breezy summer bop to question the efficiency of the American electoral process, challenge government-sponsored and private corporate contractors in Iraq to pull out, and forward the notion that true support of the troops involves bringing them all back home. Album closer "Lord, I Know We Don't Talk" continues the folk tradition of calling out leaders who invoke religion to justify repressive and violent agendas in the name of a higher power. Devine wrote that song in a New Orleans motel, and sharpened his arrangements for most of this material while on the road, performing solo and with The Goddamn Band. The album's more dynamic moments are driven by Miracle of 86 drummer Mike Skinner and guitarist/bassist Chris Bracco, who produced the past two albums, pianist Amy Bracco, violinist Margaret White (Cat Power/Belle and Sebastian/Sparklehorse), guitarist Russell Smith, singer Carey Brandenburg, guitarist Mike Robertson (also from Miracle), percussionist Kevin Kolankowski, and a guest appearance by Brand New vocalist Jessie Lacey. If "Split the Country, Split the Street" doesn't exactly erase the tough parts of the past year, it does turn those hardships in something that was worth fighting for. It's the record Kevin's supporters have been waiting for, and the one that'll get the others off the fence. 2003-2004 Having poured himself into Miracle of '86, the band he has fronted since he was 15, for the better part of the last decade, Kevin decided it was time to step away and release a few gems that just weren't right for his main gig. Honing his chops as an undergrad at New York City's Fordham University, Devine crafted a batch of emotive indie-folk with a simple and melodic lyrical sensibility that shows influence from artists as diverse as Elliott Smith, Bob Dylan, and Stephen Malkmus. After showcasing this new batch of songs at informal art-school parties and coffee house open-mics, the rough sketches that passed for songs began to gel and take form. Pretty soon he was ready to, as P-Funk would say, take it to the stage. And to the stage he took it, landing a residency at NYC's now defunct Wetlands Preserve, and often doing two or three sets in an evening. In 2001 Brooklyn, NY's Immigrant Sun Records took notice of Kevin's solo efforts and promptly issued his first solo full length, Circle Gets The Square. Still pulling double duty touring the world with Miracle of '86, Kevin found time to play the occasional solo gig here and there and even managed to share the stage with names ranging from Soul Asylum's Dave Pirner to Dashboard Confessional, Desaparecidos, and even Curt Kirkwood of the Meat Puppets. Quite an impressive array if you ask me. Fast forward to 2003. While recording the newest Miracle record, Kevin began sketching out some ideas of what would become his latest solo offering, Make the Clocks Move. Soon enough the demos found their way into the hands of Triple Crown Records who immediately took a likening to the songs and even threw a track on their Beer: The Movie Soundtrack. The result: an amazing record of emotionally charged, beautifully crafted songs of sparse acoustic numbers, haunting vocals and even a few all out rocking jams. Fans of whiney singer/songwriter types beware, this is not for you. |
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