Buck 65 - Neverlove interview

Buck 65 is a class act.  When he got to fulfill a childhood dream last month of throwing out a pitch in a major league stadium he did a little more than the expected.  When Cubs third baseman Luis Valbuena, who'd been assigned to catch the ceremonial first pitch, came over to say hello Buck said to him: “I’m going to put a little something on it”.   In the end he threw by his own assessment  "a 4-seam fastball. It tailed and sunk a bit. It would have been a tough pitch for a right-handed batter and even more so for a lefty. It made a nice pop sound when it hit Valbuena’s glove."  The crowd seemed taken aback by this nearly pro pitch. 
But then Buck is too humble to tell anyone, although many know this about him, that he was such a good baseball player in his youth that he was scouted by the New York Yankees only to blow out his shoulder and his first chance at an international career. 

When purchasing his newest album Neverlove in Itunes the program suggests similar artists like: Tom Waits, Busdriver (who has his first strong record out in years too) and his former partner in crime Sixtoo (of Sebutones and whom you never hear of as of late).  He is the sort of artist that on one hand makes Hip Hop that his core audience can spit every line too.  Then he is also the sort of avant-garde artist who will collaborate across many genres and could be just as easily described as talking blues.  In his own words hear how the boy from Mt. Uniacke, NS made the big time in a small way.

Luke C. Bowden:  In the early days of your career you used to do a thrilling rendition of the seminal poem Casey At The Bat spliced with the drama of your provincial baseball final over a hip hop beat.   Given that you grew up in rural Nova Scotia, a stones throw from the birthplace of hockey, it seems odd that you were so drawn to the American national pastime and Hip Hop when everyone else was listening to metal or whatever.  Are there parallels to be drawn with your skill and fascination with the game of baseball and your diligent musical ethic and early almost clinical interest in Hip Hop?

Buck 65: I liked hockey when I was a kid. My brother and uncles were all fanatics. I was watching a game with them when I was a kid. Red Wings vs. Leafs. Borje Salming got a skate in the face. It's an infamous moment in hockey history. I saw it happen. Up close. I was totally horrified. It scared me off hockey forever. My small town didn't have any organized hockey, but it did have a baseball league. I signed up when I was seven years old. I took to it right away. I improved quickly. Being good at it made me love it. A kid needs that kind of thing - I did anyway. It became a total obsession - not just playing, but studying the history too. I guess I have an analytical nature. So hip hop music appealed too. Especially when I was a kid in the 80s. The music was so fun then. And with the music all being sample-based in those days, it was like a musical scavenger hunt for me. But you know, before I heard hip hop music, I really liked truck driving music. A lot of those songs were in the talking blues style. So when I first heard raps songs, to me, it was just more truck driving music!

You were born Ricardo Terfry but have gone by many alias' from Stinkin' Rich, Johnny Rockwell, Uncle Climax, Haslam, Dirk Thornton and DJ Critical (I'm sure there are others).  Our readers might be interested to know though where the name Buck 65 actually comes from?

My dad started calling me Buck the day I was born. I was named after him, but that was my mother's idea. My whole family has called me Buck my whole life. When I played baseball, my number was 65. Usually, when big league baseball players sign their autograph, they include their number. I always liked how that looked. So when I was daydreaming as a kid, I'd practice my autograph: Buck 65.

You were for the longest time an intensely local artist in Halifax, Nova Scotia.  But at the same time or shortly thereafter you became an international artist.   It's probably best if you put it in your own words but how did the agency at first of people like Kid Koala and Thom Yorke lead to opportunities as far afield as opening for the Beastie Boys to appearing on Sesame Street (The Grocery Store Rap?

Everything changed in 1999. I made an album called Man Overboard. It wasn't distributed particularly well, but it really circulated somehow. I don't know what it was about that one, but it found some friends in high places. The guys from Radiohead liked it. Aphex Twin liked it. Vincent Gallo liked it. These people started coming out of the woodwork, letting me and the world know they liked my music - the guys from Radiohead, in particular. They talked about me in interviews when they were doing press for Kid A. That was big for me. Everyone was talking about Radiohead at that time. And they were talking about me. It changed everything. I met them in Montreal on the Kid A tour and they offered to help me out. They hooked me up with their publicist and stuff like that.

You negotiated your record deal with Warner Music Canada, which lead to your commercial breakthrough on Talkin' Honky Blues (and your signature hit Wicked and Weird), to allow you to re-release all of your 'cult' albums- part of the Language Arts cycle- through which you've gained greater international renown.   As your career and interests have deviated away from hip hop (as it is now known) towards country, talking blues and avant-garde it seems you have retained that independence.  Can you introduce international readers and listeners to all of the projects that you are currently engaged in and your record releases of this past year?

Holy smokes. It's been a busy time. I have a project with a woman from Belgium named Joëlle Lê (Bike For Three!). I've been making music with my old friend Jo. He makes music under the name Jorun Bombay . We made an album about laundry (Laundromat Boogie). A singer from Nova Scotia named Jenn Grant has a new album out and it features a song called "Spades" that we recorded together. I have a few more irons in the fire. I'm putting the finishing touches on my first novel. Lots going on! As usual.

In 2008 you made the transition from turntablist to actual disc jockey when you took the helm of the CBC Radio 2 Drive slot (3:30-6:00) a position you hold to this day.  That's a lot of responsibility coming into people's offices, homes and commuting cars on a daily basis.   How has the need to appeal to a broad national audience, having access to the CBC archives and the creative license to create daily programming influenced the music you are making today?

During my time at the CBC, I've had to work with many consultants - some of the best in the radio biz. They've taught me about storytelling. They taught me about creating an arc during an hour of music. They taught me about talking to musicians. They taught me about social media. That experience, combined with having many conversations with great songwriters and being exposed to a lot of music of all kinds has had a big influence on my own songwriting and live performances. It's been a real blessing. I was lucky enough to have the chance to interview Dolly Parton a few years ago. She taught me a lot.

It's no secret that your new album Neverlove - with titles like Only War, Heart of Stone, She Fades and Love Will Fuck You Up- was borne out of the intense grief of your recent divorce.  A musicologist such as yourself must surely have considered that the Divorce Album is a genre unto itself.  Could you indulge us with your list of your Top 5 Divorce Albums with perhaps a brief rationale for each.

Well, Fleetwood Mac's Rumors comes to mind right away. I'm sure that one comes to mind first for most people. D-I-V-O-R-C-E by Tammy Wynette drew up the blueprints, pretty much. George Jones recorded many of the best songs about the end of love. He's got a ton of them. But if I had to pick an album, I'd say Memories of Us. Here My Dear by Marvin Gaye is very heavy. That's been one of my favorite albums for 20 years. It's quite dark. Blood On the Tracks by Dylan is another obvious choice, I suppose. Honorable mention to 21 by Adele. It's not a divorce record, technically. But she did write it after a tough breakup. "Someone Like You" was everywhere when I was going through my divorce. I couldn't handle it! I ran out of the room every time it came on.

You are known as much for your fecund output as your exhaustive range of collaborators- many of whom seem connected to centres you have close ties to Halifax, Toronto and Paris.  As you have moved away from the more solitary pursuits of hip hop production how has collaboration with other songwriters (such as on your last outing Jenn Grant, Hannah Georgas, Gord Downie) informed your own songwriting process?  How do you sit down and write a song with someone that might more often pick up a guitar or sit down at a piano to hatch something out?

I approached collaborative songwriting in just about every imaginable way. I've sat down next to people. I've worked over the phone. I've written with people I've never met. I've had good results with each approach. It is nice to be in a room with someone. Each person I've worked with has taught me things. It was especially informative working with Gord Downie. He was so meticulous. He taught me that everything that happens in a song has to have a purpose. Everything has to serve the message. It all has to work together. Even choosing things like effects. It all has to have a purpose. I can't not work that way now.

On Neverlove you seem to have put a great deal of trust in producer Marten Tromm who has given the whole proceeding a dolorous quality.  Many of the guests from Tiger Rosa (Natalie Bergstromm) to Adaline are artist's that Tromm has worked with closely over the years.  What was your intention in terms of the overall tonal palette of the album and how does one producer work with another producer?  Do you have to step out of the way to some extent?

I mostly stepped out of the way. But I did tell the people I worked with on this record that I wanted the music to sound cold. I also wanted to evoke a sense of empty space with most of the songs. To make things cold, I used more electronics than I usually do. But even the guitars were given a cold treatment. It's hard to make a piano sound cold, but we played things in the middle of big empty room and used that natural reverb. Marten really took control in a lot of ways. I was happy to let him do that. More than anything else, I think he just tried to get me out of the house. He knew what I was going through. I had to have a few uncomfortable conversations with everyone in the studio. I had to open up about what happened and how I was feeling. I needed everyone to be on the same page. It was a bit uncomfortable at times, but it was worth it. We got the job done.

Many of the songs on Neverlove could be described as torch songs, others are clearly blowtorch songs.   Some are delivered in your talking blues style (many will not be able to call this anything other than hip hop) but a handful are noteworthy because you are just crooning or singing as on the heartfelt Superhero In My Heart.   Singing seems like a 'lonely place' for you and you are much more exposed without your turntables, antics or personaes.  Are these creative risks you needed to take or were they different ways of lancing a subterranean pain?

It's important to me to make myself uncomfortable sometimes. I think interesting things come of that. But mostly I just needed to use melody to further the feeling I was trying to convey in the lyrics. I find that in most cases, more can be said with a melody than with words. That's a big challenge for a rapper! My friend Dean who engineered the record and did some producing was great about taking me out of my comfort zone. He made me do things I didn't really want to do. But I knew deep down that he was right and that his ideas would make the songs stronger. "Superhero In My Heart" would have sounded very different if I had've had my way. Dean gets a lot of credit on that one, in particular.

The day before you released Neverlove you released an album on your old Halifax based compatriot Jorun Bombay's imprint named Laundromat Boogie (a proper 'classic' hip hop album based around a laundry day theme).   Your recent taping for CBC's Youtube channel juggled tracks from both releases to great effect.   Did Neverlove's tragic mask need a comic mask to tour with?

Kinda, yeah. I needed to lighten things up. But I also wanted to do something that sounded closer to my older stuff, to keep my old core audience happy. It makes me happy too. Working with Jo brings me back to my roots, which feels good. I just wanted people to see that I have a lot of cards to play. I'm always evolving and moving forward. But that doesn't mean where I came from isn't still very important to me. It always will be.

You're heading out on tour to first Australia, a brief stop in Paris a few stops in England then hopping to the West Coast of Canada.  Are you bringing anyone with you on the road or what guests or special surprises can fans expect on this tour?

Tiger Rosa, who sings on half the album will be with me. I figured people would want to see and meet her. She's great and she has so much emotion in her voice. I've also decided to put together a very intense and dynamic set. My goal is to play 50 songs in 75 minutes every night! I'll probably lose a few pounds on this tour. I also bought a very nice new suit. It's going to be lots of fun!