Interviews: Cory Branan

Folk, roots, Americana, singer-songwriter… punk… Any of these descriptions suit Cory Branan. The latter being based more on theoretical aspects. But, consider that he’s currently touring with The Gaslight Anthem and Against Me!, you’ll realize punk rock isn’t just about sound, it’s about the ideas behind the music. "Punk music and country music, they're trying to get to something with the least amount of bullshit, and I find that that is the immediate tie between punk, roots and folk music," Branan says in his interview with us. His latest release, No Hit Wonder , signifies the soul of punk, yet in a much different package. A stellar release, No Hit Wonder , asks for repeated listens to full grasp, yet addictively straps you down from the first listen. You can grab it here.

On his tour, he spoke by phone to contributing editor Xan Mandell about touring with Against Me! and The Gaslight Anthem as a folk musician, the process of writing an album and the realities of making a career out of being a solo musician.

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This the beginning of your big tour, right?

Yeah, I've got 10 days, then a few days off, then I meet up with Gaslight and Against Me and it starts really going. It's all fall and winter is starting to fill up too. My kid will have a beard and be in debt by the time I get back.

I find the title of the new record, No Hit Wonder, funny when comparing it to all the press you've been getting, which is all over the place. You go from Noisey to "The Wall Street Journal." How do you feel about being a musician that can cater to so many demographics?

When you just play guitar and sing, people don't really have aesthetic things they can balk at, unless it's my accent. I'm opening up for all these different bands, whether its Against Me, Gaslight or Chris Carrabba. The folk stuff, since it's just me, they have to take the song at face value, whether or not they want to. They can be like, "Oh, this has a double bass drum, fuck that." I'm just a working musician, and I take the work when it comes. I've been lucky to fall in with some rad people.

Absolutely, you've fallen into an interesting circle of people. What is it like to be so small and play on such big stages, in front of people who more likely than not don't know who you are?

I've done some pretty extensive tours with Gaslight, so maybe a handful of those people will know me. I think it comes from being from Memphis, where people don't give a shit about anything. They just have their arms crossed in the back and have seen everything, and so if you're going to be an acoustic musician, you have to learn how to write hooks. I look at those crossed arms as my X. They're my target. Even if it's their arms uncrossing to flip me off, I want to get some action. Being thrown into the deep end of that kind of thing, I've developed a more aggressive style that suits me well in bigger rooms. I have songs for folk clubs that have a more nuanced finger-picking thing, but you play big rooms with one guitar, you have to paint a picture with a fucking paint roller. You can't get a fine brush in there, you have to use the big strokes.

What kind of practice goes into going between those two settings?

Oh, none. I never make a set list. I think it helps me not to think about it too much. It helps to just go out and react to every situation that is happening. I stay on my toes. I try to keep myself interested in everything.

Do you look at those big shows as "the next step," so to speak?

I know what kind of music I play, and it is a long road. When you insist on being genre-less and doing whatever you want to do at any given moment, you're going to shoot yourself in the foot. I'll play for anyone, anytime, anywhere. I'm just stoked to have the work, and I'm not trying to break into a punk crowd, or a folk crowd or Americana. I feel lucky to be able to fucking get work.

Then does that make playing music your full-time job?

Oh yeah, for 10 years now.

I saw you were bartending back in the day.

I've bartended a lot in Memphis. Shit, I've done every kind of odd job. One summer, I had this shit job cleaning out, when the big rigs would get off the road, I would have to fine clean the fucking interior. Some trucker had been in this thing for three months. It was the gnarliest fucking job I've ever had. I've done all that. Luckily, it's just been music for 10 years.

Does having this be your full-time job change the way you write before when it was just a hobby?

No, you know I'd probably be sitting a little easier if I did think about that. I never do. I don't consider things when I write. The only consideration I have is to not waste anyone's fucking time. There are so many damn songs, and there is no goddamn point to write another one, unless there is a reason for it, or it's a new take on something. I'm not trying to re-invent the wheel, I just consider myself a part of a long tradition of storytelling. So many fucking people waste my time in songs, I get hooked by a line, then start waiting for a pay off, but it doesn't come and it's like, "Ugh, that song could've been great." I don't have a great singing voice, I play guitar ok, but when I write stuff, I just try not to waste anyone's time, and first and foremost, mine. I'm the asshole who has to be playing the songs. I try to get people to come back for a repeat listen.

There was about six years between your album 12 Songs and Mutt, whereas with Mutt and No Hit Wonder, there was only a year or two. What was the impact of having that shorter window of time?

It's great, you get to put fresh stuff on there. The years in between those records are a little misconstrued. 12 Songs came out, then I recorded Mutt two years before it came out. I did it on my own and funded it, then it got picked up by Bloodshot Records a year later, but I just sat on it. I liked the record, and didn't want to just slap it out against the wall. I wanted to be on a home record label. There wasn't quite six years between the recording, it was more like four years. But yeah, it's nice to be on a label that wants to fucking work. From all these years putting out records, I have a stack of about 100 songs sitting around. When I start to record, I think, "Do any these fucking bastards of mine, do they want a home on this record?" Some came on this new record, songs like "Sour Mash," "Daddy Was A Sky Writer," those songs are six years old. I just see where the record is going. This one was a little more cohesive I think. It was a little more of a roots record.

You were talking about the idea of having the record find it's own way, so how long does it take a record to illustrate itself to you?

Usually, I don't go in without the songs. I'm not one of those people who writes while in the studio. This one I knew exactly what was going on, I knew the order. I could just sort of picture this record, which is not the case always. That’s the point of the name 12 Songs, it's just 12 fucking songs, and Mutt was just that too, a mutt. I don't think of an album as a concept per se, or a single song. Mutt was definitely pretty diverse. This one is a more in tune with itself.

What style do you like the most? Just 12 straight songs, a mutt or cohesive? For you, what is the perfect way for a record to sound?

When it comes to records I listen to, I like for them to have left turns. I don't think going right and left necessarily makes for a jarring listen. I enjoy that, my records and my iPod is schizophrenic as fuck, and that's how I grew up. Being from north Mississippi, I was exposed to church music, gospel, roots music and my family played fiddles and banjos and shit, but I didn't grow up on a fucking farm, I grew up in the suburb of Memphis, so I was a little hood rat, listening to whatever the hell I could get my hands on. You go into a record store, you got whatever you got. Easy E, Minor Threat, the Beastie Boys and fucking The Outfield. I just listened to whatever I could get a hold of, that's how I've always enjoyed music. My ideal record is one that has some left turns on it.

The suburbs of Memphis doesn't really sound like a punk rock sort of place… It sounds like a musical place, but not punk rock, so being in this punk scene, was there this thought of, "This isn't necessarily where I saw this going."

Yeah, but I was happy to be fortunate enough to have it happen. To me, there is a reason why Gaslight and those kinds of bands like Johnny Cash. Punk music and country music (in the truest, core meaning of those words, they're now kind of nebulous and subjective at this point), they're trying to get to something with the least amount of bullshit, and I find that that is the immediate tie between punk, roots and folk music. It does surprise me that I'm in this circle though. When I have my own shows, it's a crowd of people from the ages of 17 to 60, and it's all different kinds of people.

When these kinds of bands come to you with a tour, do you ever think, "Well maybe I should do half of this tour with those bands, and then the other half with a country/roots style band." I mean time on the road is precious, and do you want to make sure both sects are coming to see you, or you're able to play to them?

It would be nice to do it specifically like that, but it's so fucking willy-nilly. That would be great, to do these big rooms and then do the small folk clubs. Honestly, I'd fucking love to do house concerts. Not the ol' punk rock concerts that I used to do, but they've got this whole, where all the folk people tour and you just play somebody's house. They have like 40 people over and you play with no amp. I've done of a handful of them, and they're great. I'd like to do more of those too.

Looking at Bloodshot Records for a second. This is the second record with them. Is there is a contract there, or is it more a handshake-style situation?

They've got me for a few more options if they want to pick them up, and I think I'm going to stay there. We're a nice fit. It's a good label for me. It's a working man's label. They've got all the stuff in house. They don't just throw money at things. They work their ass off. They keep it streamlined and do what works for them, and they've got a track record. Hell, it's the 20th anniversary this year. They're one of those labels that will chime in if you want them to, but I don't like any kind of interferences. They're also one of the labels that you can just hand the record to and they're ready to go.

Do you feel it's necessary to be signed to a record label?

I think it's more, "Luckily I'm singed to a record label and I have wonderful people to help me." I'm not a huge fan of labels in general. I don't think they're capable of doing what they used to do. I don't think anyone in this line of work is doing what they used to do. People just flat out don't buy records. You were talking about all of the press I've been getting, and it's great, but it's also a line of work that can be here today, gone tomorrow. There won't be another Elvis Presley again. There is no way to get to Joe Blue America in a streamlined way. There isn't a hub. It's freeing that your music can get out to everyone, everywhere, but it's in a very thin layer.

But do you not feel things being digital and easier to access helps a musician like you be heard by a broader audience?

I'm sure younger people think it's like that, but I don't. It hasn't helped yet. I like that people are able to get a hold of it, and ideally, the way it would be nice is, yeah, people can get a hold of it, and they can come to shows, and that way it could translate to something. And you know, it does, in smaller ways. But because of that, everyone has to be out on the road, even the bigger guys, they can't sit around. The money is on the road, and you have to make money. The clubs don't take risks, even labels don't take risks, because there is no streamlined way for income to happen. Clubs are giving shittier deals in general. It's a weird time. There are some glimmers of things working, but it just comes down to the basic fact that there is not money as far as somewhere in the chain on a record. There's just going to continue to be diminishing returns. You'll have these pockets of great artists that would otherwise have a foothold somewhere, but I don't think the foothold is going to take. It's a weird time. That's what that song No Hit Wonder is about. There are so many fucking rad people out there that are just treading water. I think it lends more credence to be a lifer. I know it's not going to fucking pay, I know I'm still going to do it because I have this fucking compulsion. That song was written for these people that I see out there doing it.

Music for you is something you have to do, in a good way…

I've got a wife and kids. I've got these new happinesses that are surprising the shit out of me, but music is the only thing that I've known to ever be full proof. Creating and writing songs is a genuine fucking, 100 percent thing that I can count on and sets me straight.

What is like to have a wife and kids that you seem to have a lot of love for, and then be on the road. How difficult is that?

It's rough. It's a new one. My daughter is 2 1/2 years old, my son is 7 months, so it's an assessment. A handful of the songs on the record deal with that a little bit. I don't want to deal with it too much, because I don't want to be too insular when I write songs, but yeah, it's a pain in the ass. I was just talking with some of my buddies, and he was like, "Most people's dream is to be able to record and stay home more," but I was like, "Yeah, mine is kind of the inverse, it's the trailer and the fucking wife and kids in the car." I want to bring them with me, it'd be pretty rad.

As a solo musician, that's possible.

I just saw it last night, and I played a show and the band Pinback was playing the same venue, and I wandered into the dressing room and they had the wife and kids there, and it was like, "That's the dream right there." For me anyways, I imagine it'd be a nightmare for some people.