SF
GATE
January 12, 2006
by Derk Richardson
Etienne
de Rocher shows off his passion for creating music on his new eponymous
CD.
For a onetime wannabe physicist, Etienne de Rocher sure knows how to
make a record. Although much has been made of how the Bay Area-based
singer-songwriter walked away from a contract offer at Capitol Records,
and how he took five years to complete the self-titled debut CD that
will finally see "official" release on Feb. 14, the real news
is that Etienne de Rocher is a brilliantly crafted album of original
music, almost as perfectly realized as its auteur could hope -- and
strived so hard -- to make.
"When
I made this record, I deliberately tried to make an album that had a
sequence that would make people keep listening to it," explained
de Rocher, who opens for Brandi Carlile at Café du Nord in San
Francisco on Friday, Jan. 20. "From what I've heard so far, that's
what a lot of people notice about it -- they put it on and they leave
it on. That was my goal. And knowing that I was able to do it and that
people appreciated it means it's worth pursuing."
As
downloading individual tracks from the Internet increasingly becomes
the way consumers access music, investing so much blood, sweat, tears
and time in a meticulously programmed collection of 12 songs seems almost
old-fashioned, requiring a leap of faith that would have been unfathomable
30 years ago.
But
the 35-year-old de Rocher is a true believer. "I think there's
a future," he said in a recent conversation. "I'll bet that
once the downloading becomes the dominant paradigm, someone will think
they're starting something new by going, 'Hey, we're starting to make
these albums.' It may be 10 or 15 years, but I'm sure that will come
back in style."
De
Rocher's biography -- he was born to French-professor parents in Tuscaloosa,
Ala., and spent a few years as an academically advanced physics major
at UC Berkeley in the late 1980s -- is fascinating. But it hardly explains
the depth and complexity of his songwriting and record making.
Etienne
de Rocher, issued by San Francisco's Fog City Records, and already selling
like hotcakes in one Berkeley record store, provides the evidence: lyrics
with both provocative metaphors ("I became the fruit and you /
you became the knife," "danger is a temporary drug / can make
you feel so bad sometimes / cause there's real, and there's moonshine")
and real-life anecdotes ("I went backstage one day / to meet Beck
/ I gave him my record / he did not care a speck"); acoustic guitar-
and piano-based arrangements with bass (Todd Sickafoose), drums (Todd
Roper), cello (Marika Hughes), violin (Alan Lin), percussion and various
surprise ornamentations that hark back to Nick Drake chamber-folk, After
the Gold Rush-era Neil Young and the acoustic jazz/prog-folk of Tim
Buckley, Fred Neil and Led Zeppelin; alternate guitar tunings reminiscent
of Davey Graham and other British fingerstyle folk guitarists; and vocals
that recall the breathy intonations of Elliott Smith, the intimate and
conversational Paul Simon and the soulful falsettos of Jeff Buckley
and, especially, Prince.
De
Rocher, a married Oakland resident with a 5-month-old baby boy, cranks
up the enthusiasm as he answers questions about his passion for creating
music.
What
records convinced you to try your hand at the craft?
If
it wasn't R&B or African American-based, what I grew up with was
pretty much English songwriting -- the Beatles -- and I was always fascinated
with Jimmy Page's writing. The English writers took more of a classical
approach to writing -- arranged parts and sections that changed throughout
the song. Taken to the extreme, I guess that eventually turned into
prog-rock. I always got into that more segmented, arty way of putting
songs together, where they don't necessarily have a refrain or a chorus,
of if they do, it kind of sneaks up on you and then goes away.
When
did your own songwriting begin to reflect those influences?
It
took a while. My first songs were simple and based on a beat. I used
to work with samples. But when I started playing guitar and writing
things out, it got a little more complicated. I usually try to make
the arrangement follow a lyrical idea, which means that sometimes the
song sections are weird lengths or do things at interesting times. You
don't necessarily notice that when you're listening -- but when you're
teaching it to someone, they go, "Oh, there's 13 bars there, and
then there's seven."
How
did you choose the instrumentation for these songs?
I
used to rely more on electric instruments, with effects, and went for
a more processed sound. But by performing more and more and seeing people
who could play with just acoustic instruments and who had good tone
-- there's a certain timelessness to that. I used to be more in that
world of people doing electronic music and using turntables, but then
I went, hey man, it's time to grow up and get with the real stuff. When
you sit down and play a real piano, it doesn't come loaded with as many
implications as an electric piano or a synthesizer. So I veered toward
more acoustic and traditional instruments, but tried to use those in
a modern-sounding way, while sounding familiar enough that the music's
comfortable. I definitely go for a cozy sound. I want it to be interesting
and engaging and intriguing and even maybe a little enigmatic, but I
don't want to change the world. I think there are other people who are
much better at that.
You
obviously put a lot of attention into the sequencing of the record --
how it moves from beginning to end -- and the spaciousness of the sound.
More
and more, everyone's records are so full on -- the first track comes
on and it's like "boom!" I find I can't get past two or three
songs on a lot of records these days. They go for a more "radio
sound" or something. It's been creeping up so that people almost
don't recognize it anymore. But when you put on an old song from the
'50s or '60s that was totally jumping and jamming, whether it's Ray
Charles or Elvis, that stuff has so much more dynamic range and air
and room. I feel like we've got to get back towards some of that. There
are some records being made that way -- I like everything that Ethan
John has produced -- but not a lot of rootsy songwriters are making
them like that. The best records are always a good match of writing,
performance and production. There are very few great records that didn't
have really good production going on in one aspect or another, and people
sometimes forget that.
What career ambitions have been stoked by your finally finishing
this record and doing it exactly the way you wanted to?
My
primary need is to continue to write, and I love recording, I love making
finished songs -- I feel like I've built something. If I can keep doing
that, in any capacity, even all by myself, I would be very happy. Then,
in addition, I'd like to perform in other cities. I'm in front of a
decent crowd of people, and they know my stuff to the point where when
I start a song, they start clapping, and they listen to the new stuff
I have going -- that would be total bliss. Being able to do that, without
losing money on tour, would be great. Finally, just having anyone with
taste like my stuff and want to give it to other people -- as long as
that's happening, I'll be satisfied. It makes you feel like you're doing
something worthy."
-Derk
Richardson (SF Gate)
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