A star is Broke

Slaid Cleaves shines with desperation

by John O'Neill

It took 15 years, a move from Portland, Maine, to Austin, Texas, six albums, two years of non-stop touring, a steady diet of losing money on the road and eating his share of shit when back in town, but singer/songwriter Slaid Cleaves is finally poised to be recognized as one of America's premiere singer/songwriters. His latest album Broke Down (Philo) notched five consecutive weeks at the number-one position on the Gavin Americana charts. And it's received reams of positive press -- everyone from Entertainment Weekly and Mojo to roots-champions No Depression are falling over themselves in praise. This past weekend he was singled out by both the Phoenix and the Boston Herald as the artist who stole the day at the Newport Folk Festival. And, just to emphasize his struggle in the shadows of his adopted hometown, the Austin Chronicle finally recognized his work by nominating Cleaves as the city's "Best New Artist," even though he's been an active member of Austin's fertile music scene for almost nine years. It's been a long haul to the middle ground for the guy who walked away with top honors at the 1992 Kerrville Folk Festival (Lyle Lovett, Steve Earle, and Robert Earl Keene also belong to the prestigious club).

"[Kerrville] was a real great validation; I was a hometown guy before that. I figured it would either be the first step, or the pinnacle of my career and it'd be all downhill from there. For a while, it looked like it was the pinnacle," Cleaves chuckles. "Austin was rough for a while because there's so much good music. I'd be playing and Jimmie Dale (Gilmore), Robert Earl (Keen), or Joe Ely would be playing across the street. It was really hard but it made me work harder."

A childhood fan of the Clash and of Bruce Springsteen, Cleaves had a thunderbolt of clarity that struck when he uncovered his folks' old albums and fell under the spell of Gene Vincent, Buddy Holly, Hank Williams, and of Woody Guthrie. From there he learned to strum a guitar, and landed himself a Monday-night gig in a seedy dive bar on the bad side of Portland at forty bucks a night. Still, Cleaves remembers, "it was a great place. Sailors would come in off the boats, divide their money, and buy the whole house a drink. You don't see that anymore."

After coming to grips with the fact he wanted a career in music, Cleaves packed up and headed to Austin where he continued to hone his craft and to work odd day jobs (loading and unloading dumpsters, test subject for a pharmaceutical company) while hitting the road whenever he could. In 1997 Rounder Records inked him to a deal and released No Angel Knows, the first album (and fifth overall) that made critics pay attention. Loaded with graceful tunes about despair, coming up short, and decay, the album topped many critics "best of" lists but, after two solid years of touring, did little to advance Cleaves into the mainstream. Then the new decade brought Broke Down and Cleaves luck began to change.

Produced by Gurf Morlix (who twiddles the knobs on Cleaves's first Rounder effort, and has also worked with Lucinda Williams, Buddy Miller, and Peter Case), Broke Down picks up where No Angel Knows left off. Driven by Cleaves's ragged-but-tender voice and sparse acoustic strumming, Broke Down reintroduces the broken characters and stark landscapes that the singer seems to know all too well. The losers know they're losing but don't know how to get around it, and while salvation may be on the horizon, the gas gauge is sitting on "E." It is a work that is stark, tender, blunt, evocative, and poised to wrap itself around your head and heart. There may be a better folk singer out there, but you won't find a better album this year than Cleaves's little masterpiece of desperation. And it appears that after all the miles put on the van, the payoff is at hand.

"I put all my eggs in one basket on this one. I borrowed a lot of money, and I took my time [making the album]," says Cleaves, who appears this Friday at the Bull Run. "I'm starting to receive a reaction. My following has increased tenfold. In October I played Austin and eight people showed up. I played in February and it was 108. The same thing happened in New York. I'm getting play on commercial stations and bigger non-commercial ones. I'm totally obscure, but I'm working my way up!"

If his self-deprecating humbleness isn't enough to win you over, his work ethic should. In the past four days he played two ultra-prestigious gigs (Friday at the Iron Horse and Saturday at Newport), followed by appearances on a small non-commercial station in Martha's Vineyard Monday night (complete with ferry ride) and a Tuesday-morning swing by Worcester's own WCUW to play a handful of songs for the early risers. Then it's off to Portland for dinner with his grandmother (because he really is that nice of a guy) before again setting out to chase down stardom.

"We're gonna try and keep pushing [Broke Down]. Rounder has really been behind it. They've helped with tour support, and that's a first for me. It enables me to take out my favorite musicians. Plus, it's a huge country and I've only visited most places once, and the people are responding. I don't know if I'll break even this year, but the accolades have been great!"

Local Buzz

Look for the debut release from heavy-hitters Skulltoboggan sometime in October. The mighty Upsidedown Cross have secured a new drummer and will finish up their fourth release, Hate, in the coming months. Former Black Rose Garden and Huck bass player Dave Robinson reports life is fine in Cali (he was in town recently to attend a friend's wedding), and that former BRG frontwoman Rose Elliott is also digging her post-music life up the road in San Francisco. Local rhymer Mingo is wrapping up production on his second disc, Anger Managemint (3rd Degree). Mingo also spent the summer filling in on drums with Tavaras.

John O'Neill can be reached at johndelrey@yahoo.com.

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