• Photo by Todd V. Wolfson
• "It still sounds like me, in the end." —Kathleen Edwards, on her new LP

“I’m moving to America,” Kathleen Edwards sings over and over in the chorus of “Empty Threat,” the lead track of her new album, Voyageur. Thing is, it wasn’t an empty threat: The Canadian singer-songwriter recently relocated to Wisconsin, leaving behind a marriage to a former bandmate and finding a new beginning both musically and personally with Bon Iver’s Justin Vernon.

It’s an auspicious new direction. Voyageur, her fourth album, is brimming with exploration and confidence, perhaps the full bloom of an artist who first surfaced a decade ago with a self-released recording that became the little album that could (2002’s Failer). While Edwards was recognized primarily in Americana circles with her debut, she’s always had a steadfast indie streak, and so Voyageur—co-produced by Edwards and Vernon—sounds less like a departure than an arrival long in her sights.

“Some people have been saying, like, ‘This is a big departure for you,’” Edwards acknowledges, “‘but, well, no, not really. It still sounds like me. Although there are things I set out to achieve in making this record—a different style of production, a different approach to some songs—it still sounds like me, in the end.”

The record was indeed made in an entirely different manner than her last one, 2008’s Asking for Flowers. That was recorded in Los Angeles with ace producer Jim Scott and a first-rate cast of studio musicians; Voyageur was more homegrown. “This was the first time I’d done a significant amount of work in a home studio—Justin’s studio [in Fall Creek, Wis.]—which allowed for a certain amount of trial and error, without having to be careful that you didn’t waste time that you wouldn’t get back,” she says.

Working outside of the pro studio environment presented another opportunity for Edwards to push herself to be more involved in the process of actually making the record.

“It’s really hard when you show up in the studio and you’ve got Jim Scott, the best engineer, and [studio aces] Bob Glaub and Don Heffington and Greg Leisz,” she says. “You can’t help but just barely participate, because those guys are just so incredible. It was an amazing experience … but in retrospect, it didn’t push me to step out of my comfort zone in trying things.”

On Voyageur, though, Edwards is credited with playing 11 different instruments, more than twice as many as she’d handled on any previous record. Many were variations of keyboards—piano, organ, Wurlitzer, B3, Rhodes—and if her new record stands apart in some respects from her earlier work, it’s probably this shift away from guitar twang toward keyboard atmospherics. Part of the credit for that goes to Durham musician Phil Cook (of Megafaun and Vernon’s former bandmate in DeYarmond Edison), who contributed various piano and organ parts to seven of the album’s 10 songs.

“Phil played a huge role in the early stages of the record,” Edwards explains. “He came back to Eau Claire to work on it at Justin’s recommendation, and some of the things he did transformed the early direction of the record.”

The bedrock foundation of Edwards’ touring band—guitarist Gord Tough, bassist John Dinsmore, drummer Lyle Molzan and especially multi-instrumentalist Jim Bryson, whose ties with Edwards go back to before she even made her first record—complemented the newcomers. Bryson and Edwards co-wrote “Sidecar,” which is one of Voyageur’s standout tracks, even as its more straightforward rock ’n’ roll delivery contrasts with the broader sonic palette on most of the record.

If Vernon and Bryson bring different elements to the mix, Edwards says she’s often struck by their common ground. “There have been moments when Justin got credit for things Jim did, and vice versa,” she says. “It’s funny, because I really think they have a similar aesthetic and a similar ear. They’re the two people in my life the most willing to try things; they’re always thinking about new approaches and new treatments, and just throwing stuff up against the wall. And that’s so important.”

Kathleen Edwards performs Tuesday, Jan. 31, at Cat’s Cradle, with opening act Hannah Georgas. Tickets to the 8 p.m. show are $20 in advance—$23 day of show. Visit www.catscradle.com.

American Aquarium has a lot in store for their fans this year. One is a live CD recorded at The Pour House, which will be available February 11. We caught up with the band’s Bill Corbin in Muscle Shoals as he was recording their new album, which will be out later this year. And yeah, it’s being produced by some guy named Jason Isbell.

INDEPENDENT WEEKLY: What lead to the decision of doing a live album at this point in the band's history?
BILL CORBIN: We've always wanted to do a live record and people always ask us to put one out, but the timing was just never quite right. Finally, the stars kind of aligned for it. We've been playing really great and are tighter than we have ever been thanks to a lighter touring schedule that actually allows us time to rehearse.
Combine that with the fact that we haven't released anything in almost two years, and a live record seemed like a no-brainer. We play some of the songs a lot differently live and recently had worked out a new arrangement for an old song, “Anne Marie.” We wanted to capture these with the energy and intensity of our live show. Overall, I think AA fans will really dig it.

• Photo courtesy of the artist
• Kenny Roby, funded.

Early yesterday afternoon, I reached out to Raleigh singer-songwriter and former Six String Drag leader Kenny Roby with a few questions about his Kickstarter campaign, which he'd launched just a few hours before. I'm a proponent of artists funding projects through Kickstarter, but still, I sometimes get flustered by artists who ask for and promise the moon in exchange for a little financial boost. Roby's campaign was especially intriguing, then, as he was asking for a mere $2,000 and offering actually interesting content (like the download of an unheard song) for as little as $2. His most expensive offering, at $500, included a house concert. Going with Kickstarter and staying humble often don't go hand in hand, but Roby managed it.

The strategy worked, too: In less than 24 hours, fans had funded the recording of Roby's next album in full. With more than 13 days left on the clock, Roby and his new band are already $127 past their goal. And that's a good thing: The one finished track I've heard is a keeper, pairing Roby's familiar sense for strong images and his comfortably polished country tone with the more impressionistic side of current indie rock acts. Think The National, but more delicate. Below, Roby talks about his Kickstarter strategy and the shift required for a songwriter once funded by big labels to ask his fans for help.

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• Shearwater (Caption: Matador Records)

We spoke with Shearwater and Wye Oak, who play together tonight at Local 506. Hospital Ships open the 8:45 p.m. show. Tickets are $10–$12.

SHEARWATER

INDEPENDENT WEEKLY: You’re six records deep, and you’ve been playing as Shearwater since 2001. How do you keep it fresh? What was the strategy on The Golden Archipelago?

I don't think making art ever gets stale unless you let it. Over the course of the records, you can hear us finding our feet, figuring out what we're about. Palo Santo definitely felt like a leap forward—and these days, it's about as far back as we go in the live show. A lot of bands might have changed their name at that point, if only to avoid questions like this, but I think there's something a little sad about changing your name to appeal to the media's lust for the just-minted, the fresh face, the writer or musician who seems to have appeared fully-formed. If you scratch the surface, that's almost never the case—and none of my favorite artists knew what they were doing right out of the gate.

As for TGA, we wanted to make a really ornate album with a wide range of textures and colors, musically and emotionally—that worked on the scale of some of the big, dark, grand art-rock albums from the early ’80s that we loved, like Pink Floyd's The Final Cut or Peter Gabriel's third record. I was a kid when those records came out, but they were what I listened to most often in high school while Nevermind was conquering the world. Making a record like this—at a fraction of those albums' budgets—took several months and a lot of help. Very different from our first record, which we made in two and a half days a million years ago.

How is the new album translating live?

Really well. I never think about how we're going to play something when we're recording it. I just trust that we'll be able to make it work somehow, even if a song's got a ridiculously elaborate arrangement, as several on TGA do. I find that a lot of times, when you're playing live, you can let more wild, elemental textures creep in to substitute for more refined ones on the recordings—the weirder the better (i.e. distorted bass, some severely distressed samples, and Wurlitzer in place of strings, winds, and real piano). To me, it's not fidelity to the recording that matters so much as fidelity to the emotional content of the songs—and on that count, I think we're at the top of our game right now.

You’ve answered a thousand times about how being a birder has influenced your music, but how has your music influenced the way you look at the world?  And are Rook (with the many bird references) and The Golden Archipelago (with it’s sort of lyrical tension about man and nature) products of that?

Thank you for not putting me through that one again! I guess I'd say that over time I've become more and more interested in the special ability of music to convey and evoke conflicting emotional states at the same time. The recording of the Bikini Islanders singing their national anthem that opens TGA was a really powerful example of that, for me. When you read the lyrics, it's a song of exile and despair, but the performance is full of a wild energy, even joy. When I heard it, I knew I wanted the album to explore that emotional state as much I as wanted it to be about the islanders and what happened to them.

What do you want this band to be when it grows up?

I'm not sure. What do you want to be when you grow up? How will you know when you've reached it? I don't mean to go all "the-journey-is-the-destination" on you, but the thrill of discovery is what keeps you going as an artist. I hope we never really settle down or get too comfortable. I've already got a title for the next record, and when I'm daydreaming with my nose pressed against the window of the van on this tour, that's what I'll be thinking about.

For our talk with Wye Oak, hit the jump.