Interview with musician Joe Pagetta on his new CD Joywood

By Dina Di Maio

 

              

 

The style in your new CD, Joywood, is different
from your earlier works, Recollections of Maybeville
and Small Worlds.  What inspired the change?

Yes, it's definitely different than the previous albums. I think, though, this is the record I always  wanted to make, but didn't think I could.  There was a comfort in recording sparsely with just acoustic guitar, some bass, minimal percussion, and I think I was a little nervous about dressing up the songs more. I've never considered myself much of a producer. I heard a lot of it in my head but didn't think I could pull it off. Then my wife gave me this little handheld digital multitrack recorder last year and I started
messing with drums and bass and overdubbing electric guitars and I realized that the songs really lent themselves to bigger productions. When I was ready to
record, I approached George Marinelli here in Nashville about doing the record at his studio with him engineering. I gave him "Small Worlds" and a copy of all the demos I had done at home to give him an idea where I was coming from. I think the new demos really presented to him the direction I wanted to go, what was itching to get out. He's an incredible guitar player, all-around musician and producer and he offered to produce it himself. He very kindly told me that he loved my voice, my songs, and thought I deserved a great record and he thought he was the man for the job. I put my trust in him, let go a bit and under his guidance, the songs took on lives of their own.

For the most part, the album takes a positive look
on life, love and childhood memories.  The only
negative song seems to be My Biggest Enemy, though the
song does seem to be about someone struggling to rise
up from a situation.  How does this song fit with the
others?


That's a very astute observation. It's funny you mention that song, because I debated whether or not to put it on the record. Even after we finished recording it I wasn't sure about using it. And the main reason was that thematically I didn't think it fit. It also even sounds different. I didn't set out to make a more positive record, or fit things into a theme, but as I wrote the songs, more and more it seemed like a theme was emerging. And while "positive" is a good word,
I kind of think that "reconciliation" is a little closer. I think one of the harder things for a person to do, and one of the most important elements of growth, is to be able to reconcile your past with where you are in the present. It's difficult to grow and move forward, at least in a healthy manner, if you don't do that. As a person, not just a songwriter, I was really struggling with that, trying to get a good sense of where I'm from, what shaped me, what my hang ups are, my good qualities, bad qualities, etc. I was in Nashville in what felt like a world away from Jersey City. I got married four days after September 11, 2001. I was living in a house for the first time in my life after a life of apartment dwelling. Everything was different and I was having a hard time figuring out, as corny as this sounds, who I was and what my place was. So I started looking at past. The songs I was writing seemed to reflect that. The summers of youth in "Break Down," the dreams of youth in "Going for the World," the toys and objects in "Where the Little Things Are," and I realized with a lot of the songs, that I really wasn't angry anymore. I was able to look back and say, "you know, I'm all right. I'm okay, I turned out fine. I'm at peace." One of the most memorable things I ever read in a interview with Bruce Springsteen was him talking about his father and some of the bitter songs he wrote about their relationship, like "Adam Raised a Cain." He said he was angry at his father, angry about
their relationship, and got out all that anger in the songs. It helped him get the anger out, but it didn't really help his relationship with his father at all, it only kept those emotions and memories fresh. It wasn't until he let go of that and the subject matter that things got better. I sort of felt that way about life in general. Long story to a short question, but this
brings me back to "My Biggest Enemy" in which it seems like the narrator hasn't reconciled anything, because he can't seem to see past what's directly in front of him, the present. He's prone to rash decisions and lets situations get the best of him. But, like you said, and this is key, he's struggling but still trying. So I think it fit thematically with the rest of the songs, because it emphasizes that peace and reconciliation is an ongoing process. You never really, fully, set it all in order. You have to work on it, take it as it comes. Plus, everyday creates a new past to deal with anyway.

I can see the theme of passion for one's art in
your lyrics.  We've talked about this before.  The
song, Where the Little Things Are, on the surface is
about childhood toys and their significance, but it
delves deeper into how something like a first guitar
can launch a life career.  I see a lot of these songs
as a celebration of your career choice, like Talking
One Thing.  What do you think?


That's interesting. I hadn't really thought about that. Whenever I play "Little Things" live I always get a little rush in my heart when I sing that last line, about wondering if my first guitar is now part of anyone's rock n roll plan, or rock n roll band. The given point, is that I'm the one singing it, and playing it with a rock n roll band. If I'm singing about it all these years later, wondering who's playing it now, then by default I must still be doing it. Doing what I planned on doing with it back then. So I guess you're right. In a way it is - a celebration - of a career choice, or at least of perseverance and staying in the game. The guitar is in Talking One Thing too, but I'm not so sure about its significance. The guy in the song is still playing it, and if he could only take one thing with him, he chooses the guitar. But he's also sitting in the bar not doing much, so I worry a little about him. And his career choice.

When She Moves is a great love song.  Is that the
Kim Carnes singing with you?  What was it like working
with her?

Thank you for that. Of course, working with Kim was surreal at first. Here's this incredible vocalist and artist, one of a kind really, and she's in the studio singing my lyrics and asking me what I think. My first thought was "Whatever you want to do!" I mean, I was a  kid when she first came into prominence. She's a genuine person, and a generous person and no sooner
did we ask her to sing on it, that she said yes, when and where. As far as how we came to meet, and this emphasizes the small community that Nashville is, Kim and my wife Kathy had recently become friends through a music business function (in Miami of all places) and it turned out that Kim lived in the same area in Nashville as George. I asked George if he knew her, and it turned out that they were old buddies back when they both lived in LA. So the session became a bit of a reunion for those two, talking about the old  days. It was great fun. And a great honor.

Cherry Baby is a song that stands out because it
sounds so different from the rest of the album.  What
were your influences for this piece?

Well, the subject matter actually came from a real experience. I had this beat up Oldsmobile that had pretty much taken me everywhere, moved me to Nashville, etc. So much was wrong with it and I eventually traded it in to a dealer. Not long after, I saw it in what appeared to be a drug stop. Lots of police officers, flashlights, trunk open. It was heartbreaking. I knew it was my car too, because it had the Snoopy as "Joe Cool" bumper sticker on it. When I wrote it, and I think this is where the influence of so many styles of music in Nashville comes into play, I incorporated a bit of country, bluegrass and folk, and lyrically, at least at the beginning, the blues. When it came time to record it, the obvious path in terms of feel was to go the country and bluegrass route, but it was kind of funny, because George said "You're not really a bluegrass musician" and then it wound up sounding like a rollicking Cajun jug band, which I'm also not. It's one of my favorite tracks on the record. And it's proof, as I said earlier, that the songs sometimes dictate their direction themselves.

Your music is definitely evolving with each new
release.  What can fans expect to hear in the future?

Hmmm. Sonically, I'm not really sure, but I do think it'll be different. Maybe more dramatic. It'll go somewhere new, and I have a few ideas and few people I'd like to work with. We'll see. Evolve is a good word, and I guess that's what I'll try and do.

 
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