Taylor made

Artistic honesty sets this songwriter apart

by Chris Flisher

It isn't easy to get a feel for the basic qualities that make singer/ songwriters tick -- those elements below the surface that drive them to do what they do. Surprisingly, you'll find yourself often face to face with self-appointed geniuses, bruised-ego weepers, or hear-me-roar showmen. Once in a while, however, you find humility. Granted, self-promotion is part of the game, but what's so funny about grace, reserve, and understanding? Nothing.

As singer/songwriter Louise Taylor offers, being true to yourself doesn't always mean blowing your own horn. "Where I am going, or trying to go, and what I do are not big issues for me. I don't have to be different. I approach songwriting as an art form. I want to express that feeling with as much quality and taste as I can, but I don't see myself as imparting any wisdom or message. I don't have to do that to be satisfied with myself. I don't use that as a measure. What I want, if anything, is to try and express some of the complexities of life and maybe find some hope in there somewhere."

And hope she has. After spending her teenage years on the road, Taylor, who performs at the Iron Horse Music Hall, in Northampton, on October 4, had a taste of what life has to offer. At the impressionable age of 16, she left her rural Vermont home and spent the next six years living hand-to-mouth hitchhiking across America. During her travels she came face to face with the bitter realities of life, living close to the ground, low on society's ladder. "I was not contributing anything to society," she remembers. "But I wasn't draining on it either. I had such an overpowering sense of wanderlust that all I could do, all I wanted to do, was travel. So I did."

Needless to say, living off the land provided a wellspring of experience from which to write. It was during her tenure as a modern-day hobo that she honed her songwriting skills. Supporting herself as a street musician, she learned the basics of performing and getting by. As her songs and demeanor attest, this is a woman who takes little for granted. "I like to be hopeful, and I think that came from living so close to the earth. It definitely forced me to face my relationship with others to the point where I needed to accept people and situations and make the best of them. Hopeful. I hope my songs create something for people in the same way."

Taylor's songs fall together like interleaved chapters in a book of life experiences. "Blue Norther" recounts her time spent as a misplaced waitress on the Texas coast, while "Angelee" spins the story of a small-town girl, suffering from public scorn while fighting to be happy. Taylor's trenchant observations of life on society's edge underscore her own experiences. By contrast, her unerring free spirit comes to light in the fond memories of distant places in "Islamorada" or the high, wind-blown freedom of riding a horse in "Run the Wild Country."

"I draw my songs from my memories," she explains. "Because they are what I know. You can't write what you don't know. Traveling taught me a lot, so these songs come to me from having a clear vision of something or someone from my past. When these memories collide with feelings, I take those moments and turn them into songs. It is the most fascinating and rewarding thing in the world for me."

It shows in both her writing and her presentation. Taylor's delivery is powerful, laced with a sense of tension and grace, and her melodies are quick and memorable with the definite ring of pop. So much so that she was approached by Nashville several years ago. And though the talent scouts heard something in her songs, they failed to follow through. The experience left Taylor troubled by the nature of the business and the dilemma of trying to force hits. "I was whisked down to Nashville with the hope that I could be somebody," she laughs. "The next big somebody. But my experience with that whole scene and what did not occur really hurt me as an artist. It stifled my growth, because I ended up second guessing myself because I didn't pass that test."

Perhaps she'll have the last laugh. In the long run, artistic honesty bodes far better than flash-in-the-pan product. Not surprisingly, it was Nashville upstart Nanci Griffith who inspired Taylor to see her way clear and stand by what she believed, album sales or not. "I heard in Nanci the type of song I was trying to write," she says. "And I saw her doing it with success. I could see she wasn't compromising for the sake of Nashville, and that's what I wanted. So I didn't go out of my way to write for anybody but myself -- to try and sell my songs. I'm kind of rebellious like that, but I try and keep and open mind because I want to be sure I know who I am."

Louise Taylor performs at the Iron Horse Music Hall, in Northampton, on October 4. Tickets cost $8 for the 7 p.m. show. Call (413) 584-0610.