Instant Magazine, Jan. 2001 Aaron Shatz

I wandered into the back room of The Burren in Somerville a few months ago to find a country-rock band onstage. Now normally, I enjoy country-rock bands, so I was fairly content. I ordered my Guinness and settled into a booth in the back. But gradually, the music started winnowing deep into my brain. There was a crack piano player, some great fiddle, and a lead singer who showed a bit more soul than the average back-of-the-Burren white funk crooner. Then I noticed myself singing along. The songs were catchy enough that you could learn the hook in two minutes, and every few songs the band would play a cover--some you would expect from a country-rock band (Bob Dylan's "One More Cup of Coffee") and some you wouldn't (Radiohead's "Lucky"). I found myself singing harmonies on a song I knew, Gillian Welch's "Tear my Stillhouse Down," and the piano player heard me in the corner and actually motioned for me to come sing into his microphone.

That's my half-hearted attempt at pitching myself in my article in a New Journalism style, and it's my introduction to the story of Jabe Beyer, the best folk-rock-country-blues singer in Boston, and his band, Jabe. His first record, Twenty Point Turn, won Best Debut album at the Boston Music Awards, a second album is due out shortly, and the rip-roaring live show is on display often at local Boston pubs like Tir na Nog and The Burren.

How did you start playing music?
I was a craft show kid. My mother made this crazy beautiful jewelry out of horseshoe nails and my family would be in a different town like every weekend, living in one of those crank open trailers. There would always be live music at these shows and I would just sit there for hours and listen. One band gave me a copy of their record and signed it. I was five years old. That was that, hooked for life.

Tell me about the folks who play with Jabe.
I swear I've had at least 20 different people in the band, mostly drummers who come and go. About 3 years ago I just couldn't take the folk thing anymore. The people are so great but it just isn't me. I like bars, booze, and loud music too much. What amazes me the most is that people actually want to play on my songs. I've had some of the best players in town play gigs with me for no money just because they dig the music. First there's Jay Aucella, whose been playing bass with me since day one. He's got this vibe. You see him play and you just say to yourself "that guy's a bad-ass." On drums now is Dave Westner who recorded almost all of Twenty Point Turn, the first record. He filled in one gig on bass when Jay was sick. Then he played piano for a few months, then he filled in on drums, now he's the drummer. The guy's a walking musical note who smokes more cigarettes than anybody I know. Keeping the fourth member is always the kicker. We've had Casey Driesson who plays with Steve Earle now, we play with Bow Thayer from Elbow, Sean Staples (who plays with Kris Delmhorst and Catie Curtis), K. Ishibashi who joined the circus, Joe Kessler (from Wooden Leg), and some other fantastic weirdos. All I know is it's always different and it's always fun. Different songs sound different ways depending on who is playing.

What other bands do you play in?
I play in an old-time kind of thing called The Benders. It's another situation where I look around and see who I'm playin with and just have to laugh. Nolan McKelvey on bass, Bow on banjo, Tim Kelly on dobro and Steve Mayone on mandolin. I heard there's another Benders in town. We're gonna have to fight it out I think. We started out just fucking around and then we played a gig and boom, we were a band. The record's coming out at the end of September. We couldn't have made it any cheaper. We recorded in one afternoon standing in a circle around two mics in my living room with a bottle of Jameson, a lot of grass and a bunch of tunes. We did the printing at Kinko's. God bless the cutting machine. I've been playing with Elbow now for two years with Bow Thayer, Mike Press, and Jeremy Curtis. They were a band before I stumbled in. That was another great accident in my world. Those guys are the epitome of what it should mean to play music. The live in Vermont, so I've done a lot of driving but the music is worth it. I sure as hell ain't doing it for my health. I've learned so much from those guys.

Your music definitely seems to fall into that No Depression insurgent-country genre. Do you agree?
Yeah, I guess we fit in there more than anywhere else. I could give a shit what people call it to be honest. But yeah, I think that whole scene is great. I listen to those bands more than what's going on nowadays on the radio. I'm into words. If the words are good, I'll listen to anything. I've spoken to Bloodshot many times. They're a great label. I dig the Old 97's and other bands like 16 Horsepower. Local music is where my head is though. Somerville, baby, the new alterna-super-mega hell-country capitol of the universe. The music here is amazing. If the whole insurgent country thing is where people want to group us, I'll take it.

Where do you get your cover tunes?
If we cover something it's gotta be something not many people do, or know very well. Like Radiohead's "Lucky." That OK Computer album is so good, but nobody I know was playing any songs off it. It was a joke that started in my kitchen. I thought "Lucky" would sound cool all fast and bluegrassed out, so we did it. We're no cover band, but it's nice to play songs you wish you wrote, every so often. We do (Tom Waits') "Chocolate Jesus" sometimes, just to change things up a bit. I swear I was gonna write that song. Tom just beat me to it.

Tell me what you were trying to do with the first record.
On Twenty Point Turn I guess I was just trying to make a good record without all the bells and whistles. I made the whole thing for $2100. Recording, mastering, everything. We did the basics in one day. 20 tunes, added some tracks to most of them, recorded a lot in my bedroom with a shitty mic, no headphones, plugged it into my stereo and had the idea that that was all OK. I was like, "Who needs all that other stuff. Fuck that. I can do this 'cause I know what I want and no buttons or knobs or local guitar hero guy or whatever is gonna do it for me." Just songs and words. I think an acoustic record can sound heavy and dark if you do it right. Dave Westner was a blast to work with too. He put on tape what I heard in my head without me even telling him. Then the record won a Boston Music Award. That was nice.

How does the new record differ from the first?
I think it's gonna be called "Outback Country Vampire." There's so much stuff recorded over the last year that it's hard to know what to put out. If I had the dough I'd have put out another record last year too. I got all caught up in a manager deal that never went down which wasted about 8 months or so. They said they were gonna pay for the album, put us on the road, blah blah blah. So I waited and waited and they turned out to be jokers. The timing could have been better but I learned how much a lawyer costs and read enough books about the music biz to know I just need to write and play and whatever happens, happens. The new stuff is a lot darker as far as production goes, and I been trying to take my writing and dumb it down a bit. Less chords, less words, more feeling. I've been lost in a world of vampire books, murder ballads, bars, and life after dark for the past two years, so I can't help but write about it.

One last question. What's the deal with chicken? (Jabe's website www.jabe.net has special section on chicken)
Don't even go that direction. It's a contagious disease. An underground conspiracy. A monkey on your back. Look out. Just be on your way.