Critics have always had an easy out when talking about John Moreland, and that’s been to call the Tulsa-based songwriter folk music’s big, bad sad boy.
EDITOR'S NOTE: The September 2017 date was cancelled because of Hurricane Irma. Thankfully Moreland booked a short Florida run in February. Unfortunately some jerk off stole a bunch of gear from Moreland & his band on February 7. All Florida shows — including the one on Feb. 14 in Safety Harbor — are still on.
On the surface, the assertion isn’t that far off. Moreland, 32, has always lugged around a large body, and his high school history teachers (who doubled as football coaches) surely seethed around the idea that he preferred to play punk rock instead of pulverizing other teenage boys on the offensive and defensive line. These days, Moreland is still imposing, especially when tattoos on his his arms and head (not to mention the ones on his knuckles that spell “OKLAHOMA” in a sailor font) come into view. Still, so many of his songs — especially those on a 2013 collection of forlorn, heartland Americana called In The Throes — are meditative reflections that wield an unassuming power to leave listeners lachrymose and puffy in the eyelids.
The New Yorker has called his songbook a collection of “Sad National Anthems,” and even this writer, after watching a 2016 performance of “Break My Heart Sweetly” on The Late Show With Stephen Colbert, called Moreland this country’s “patron saint of loneliness.”
All that’s not lost lost on Moreland, who arrives in Tampa to headline the Straz Center’s Jaeb Theater on September 12, just two years after he played a very intimate songs-in-the-round set at Ybor City’s soon-to-be-demolished New World Brewery.
“I get asked to play weddings all the time. I just feel like I’m gonna bum everybody out,” Moreland said during an interview on The Moment with Brian Koppelman in February of 2016. “And I just ask, ‘Why on earth would anybody want me to play their wedding?’ Like, you’re gonna get divorced if I play your wedding.” It’s a funny moment during the Billions co-creator’s 45-minute chat with Moreland, who famously likes to let his songs do most of the talking for him.
There’s actually been a lot more laughing from Moreland these days, and some of that jollification probably has a lot to do with the release of his latest album — Big Bad Luv — which saw release on a 4AD, a 38-year-old British label that’s released a bevy of beloved albums from fringe-y artists like the Cocteau Twins, Pixies, Bauhaus and even Ariel Pink (Tampa-based rock outfit Merchandise is also on the label). Moreland told CL that he was only talking to two or three other labels about releasing Big Bad Luv, and that Martin Mills (who founded Beggars Group, which owns 4AD plus other labels like XL, Rough Trade and Matador) and his staff were always kind of the frontrunners.
“I just really liked everybody that I met there, and that's like 90 percent of it right there,” Moreland said. “It just felt like a cool fit. Like I know it's kind of a weird fit, but I was sort of into that.”
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It’s not too strange when considering Moreland’s origins in the punk scene. He listened to Converge, Pg. 99 and Minor Threat on the way to forming a band of his own, Thirty Called Arson, which played a Bay area stop many years ago (“It wasn’t a skatepark, it was just a shop. I don’t remember if it was Tampa. It may have been St. Petersburg,” he recalls). The 4AD connection actually feels totally natural when you consider the way Moreland has married an affection for the always-evolving heartland rock of Jason Molina with older influences like Guitar Town-era Steve Earle, the latter of which Moreland used to catch on TV back when CMT would still run music videos. Add those elements to the Tom Petty Moreland and his dad would listen to on drives to Cincinnati Reds games (he spent early childhood in northern Kentucky), plus the Janet Jackson that occasionally makes its way into Moreland’s ear, and what you end up with is music that’s unabashedly from the Dust Bowl yet buoyed by the universal theme of loving (and losing) fiercely. And if 2015’s High on Tulsa Heat initially signaled Moreland’s move away from the morose messages on In The Throes, then this year’s Big Bad Luv is the arrival of a smiling Moreland, backed by a full band that delivers happy heartland anthems that still ask the tough questions while also providing more confident comebacks to go along with all of the self-conscious contemplation.
Fans and curious onlookers should credit much of that new attitude to Moreland’s new bride, Pearl, whom he met while wandering the halls at Folk Alliance International, an all-night international songwriters’ conference where mostly white dudes (mostly all sporting suspenders) haunt hotel rooms playing countless sets that grow more inebriated as the clock ticks into the early morning. Pearl was sporting a jean jacket adorned with a giant, self-designed back patch that said “Paradise Outlaw,” and he knew he had to talk to her. Moreland — a man who started to feel weird and out of place at 13 years old — knew he was going to marry Pearl within three months of knowing her, and he’s overtly overjoyed on the final verse of “Latchkey Kid” — the closing track from Big Bad Luv.
“Don’t let me die in California, while I’m dragging all these rivers in my mind,” he sings, “‘cause I’ve found a love that shines into my core, and I don’t feel the need to prove myself no more. And when I look into the mirror, now I see/a man I never knew that I could be.”
“I feel that belonging now. And, you know, she just makes, I mean, she's my home, and she makes me feel just OK about whatever,” Moreland said when asked about the way Pearl influenced the song. “It's easy to start feeling isolated and alienated like a kind of homeless, but I don't feel that anymore 'cause she's my home, and she's there.”
That sweet sentiment — so far removed from the sullied sadness of so much of Moreland’s early work — is enough to make him pause on the other end of the line, so we break the silence by asking Moreland why he thinks Pearl likes him. “Man, no idea,” he says with a huge laugh.
It’s easy to tell that Moreland’s OK, and happy, with that mystery. For now, he’s good to just enjoy the ride and bring the songs to rooms that seem to grow larger on each tour. But will the big, bad, formerly sad man ever be too famous for Folk Alliance?
“We talked about that. It's like we already won Folk Alliance, we got married, so there's nothing else we could get out of it,” he said. “But I think maybe I'd like to go again just for the hang. Like, it's not, I don't really even care about playing. It's just so much fun.”
Fun indeed, and what a great ride it is.
Get more information on the show via local.cltampa.com and read the full Q&A below.
706 2nd St N., Safety Harbor.
Hey, John.
Yeah.
Hey sorry about the confusion earlier. This is Ray from Tampa.
Cool, I knew you were in Tampa, so I should have put it together, but I didn't.
I mean I didn't either. I did feel bad texting you that early.
No worries.
I know I don't have that much time with you, so I wanted to kind of dive in.
Yeah, sure.
Do you still like you're playing "Your Body is a Wonderland" live?
What?
Oh man, just kidding — I was trying to make a joke.
Yeah.
Have you written anything on that Nash guitar yet?
Oh, no, I haven't played it yet. I'm going to pick it up on this tour, but we've got another Nash. I've played a few of them on my last couple records — none of them were mine, but just, you know, there happened to be a Nash at the studio or some somebody let me borrow one.
I want to ask you another guitar question. I love reading about your dad and how he kind of got you into Steve Earle, Creedence, Petty and stuff. Then you tell the stories about your dad's Martin, which I assume is the one you learn how to play on.
Yeah.
What is your dad's name?
His name's Robbie Moreland.
And what kind of Martin is it?
It's a '51 Martin 0018.
So and then, you know, where I was a kid, and I was learning how to play I just fucked it all up. Like there's, like, scratches all over it. There were, there's some big cracks in it. I even made a little hole in it one time. It had never even had like a refret or anything before until three years ago, so it was just like it was just thrashed. So I got it re-fretted, and I got a new bridge on it 'cause the bridge was pulling up from the back — you know, about to pop off.
I left the scratches and shit on there (laughs). You know, to me it's cool to look and remember when I was, like you know, 11, and I made that scratch on the guitar, or whatever. I don't know if he feels that way about it, but I thought it was cool to still leave it kind of dirty — but it's much more playable now though, When I was learning and growing up the action was crazy high, and my fingers would bleed. It's good that I learned to play on a guitar like that because I was, you know, even now, like I don't like guitars that feel too easy. I feel like I need to manhandle it a little bit.
What did GQ call your fingers? Slender or lithe, I think, was what Clay wrote. I read that was like, 'Man, way to put him out there.
Haha.
Anyway, your dad kind of kept the guitar in a closet anyway, right? So it was like kind of like yours.
Yeah, he didn't play it until I started playing it. I mean, he played it when he was younger, but then when he kind of reached adult life and have kids, I don't think you ever played it anymore, really.
OK.
And then when I start playing then he started playing again, so…
OK, so dad is the engineer right?
Yeah.
And Mom, a librarian.
Yeah, she's a teacher. She's she's a librarian at like a middle school.
What's mom's name?
Connie.
I think you kind of already talked about your life a child, and kind of when you started to feel weird about yourself at 13, and that turned into you turning to punk, starting bands and going on tour and things like that, but did you have any jobs when you were a kid?
Yeah, we were just talking about this in the van, actually. The longest job I ever had was like three months working at this western wear store selling boots. So yeah, I was always terrible and I never could keep jobs for very long 'cause it just wasn't what I wanted to be doing. So I like I washed dishes at a pizza place and I was a night stocker at Target, and I worked for the city of Broken Arrow, Oklahoma one time. Those were all like, you know,I worked at those places for like a week.
I know that you kind of like grew up on Converge, Pg. 99 and Minor Threat. Do you remember how old you were when you went on your first tour with the punk band?
Yeah, I was, um, 17 I think. It was it was during Christmas break from in my during my senior year of high school, so yeah, I think I was 17.
Do you remember that band's name?
Yup, we were called Thirty Called Arson.
Okay.
And we played in Tampa. We played in Tampa on that tour actually, I think at a skate shop or something.
Oh shit, maybe it was Skatepark of Tampa, like Transitions or something.
No, it wasn't a skate park — just a shop. Yeah, I don't remember it may not have been Tampa, it may have been St. Petersburg or something, but we played that area.
You’re on stuff by The Secret Handshake, Brandon Clark Band, Sadler Vaden and Amy Speace (vocals). I was wondering since you're obviously a really good song right are you selling songs to anybody right now?
Not really. I mean, like, you know those those all came about organically so, you know when a friend, like, asks me to help on a song or something of course I'm I'm always down to to do what I can, but I haven't really been interested. I've had I've had people reach out — people who I don't really know too well, or people people introduce themselves — and then immediately, because they'll introduce themselves because they want to co-write with me or whatever. I'm not really into that. You know, like, if some country artist wants to record one of my songs something that's totally cool with me, but,I don't think, you know, if they want to co-write because they want songs like my songs well then that's kind of a Catch-22 'cause I don't think you get songs like my songs from co-writing. You know?
The times I've tried to do it, it kind of slows me down. It's a hindrance. I'm either slowing down because I've got to explain myself to the other person, explain where I'm coming from, what that line meant and whatever, and that's like I don't even know that shit when I'm writing a song. You know, like I don't. It's just it's just coming out, and it feels good, so you just keep going.
So, you know, that's really frustrating and you end up feeling like you kind of filter yourself because you got to make it with the other person's needs and requirements. So yeah, the times. I've tried it I've never been very happy with the results, so I don't that's not really something. I'm trying to do.
Yeah, plus like I kind of like have romanticized what I think your songwriting process is like all that heavy edits and, like just being really particular with words and phrases and and verses and stuff like that.
Yeah.
So I can't imagine co-writing would lend itself to feeling good about the final product coming out.
Yeah, I think the way I write songs just isn't really meant to be done with with a bunch of other people, you know.
No, I totally get you and I think that's why it's kind of cool. I know you really like Martin Mills and like the whole 4AD vibe, and the family that they have over there.
Yeah.
I had a couple questions about that were you talking to a bunch of labels when you finally made that decision, and just in general in your kind of arc. I mean, I remember, like, on Last Chance Records you did the interview with this blog locally called Ninebullets. When did you start to feel your fortunes changing, and how many labels were you talking to you before that 4AD deal?
Only like two or three, but not a bunch. Yeah, from the time of the time we first started talking to 4AD they were kind of the frontrunner. I just I really, really liked everybody that I met there, and that that works for them. And, you know that's like 90 percent of it right there, so. It just felt like a cool fit. Like I know it's it's kind of a weird fit, but I was I was sort of into that so.
It's pretty cool to be on the label that gave us Cocteau Twins, bands like that.
Yeah.
I wanted to ask you something just 'cause I like the way that, like, your views on love and that kind of change. In the beginning you had said that you thought love was kind of a sickness and now that's obviously really different for you, and don’t have to tell me if you want to talk about this, but I love the story about you meeting Pearl in Kansas City with that "Paradise Outlaw" patch which, for one, I was wondering if she designed that patch.
She did. That was part of some some art work. She did for Pietta andan album called Paradise Outlaw. Pearl did a series of posters and she took one of the posters and like turned it into a giant back patch and wore it around folk alliance.
So awesome.
Yeah.
On "Latchkey kid," obviously you know lay it all out there as far as how you're learning to love and appreciate yourself. I know there was some immigration-related and stuff that affected the speed of the marriage — and I just interviewed a band from Austria, a local band, which was in the same situation — but at times, but I think before you met Pearl, at least in interviews,you talked about feeling like not belonging sometimes and feeling out of place. And on "Latchkey Kid" you start to do the same thing and start the kind of appreciate yourself? Do you think that's because of meeting Pearl?
Yeah, yeah, I think so. Like it's just like I feel that belonging now. And, you know, she just makes, I mean, she's she's my home, and she makes me feel just okay about whatever. You know, whatever,whatever is happening. You know, like touring for a living can be can be can be weird and it can give you a weird perspective, I think. And it's easy to start feeling isolated and alienated like a kind of homeless, but I don't feel that anymore 'cause she's my home, and she's there, so I think that's kind of what "Latchkey Kid" is about.
What do you think Pearl likes about you?
Man, no idea (laughs).
But you can feel it — just can't explain it yet. I have a feeling that'll get to come out in a song one day. Right now you just don't know.
Yeah.
So is there any really point in going up to Folk Alliance anymore, hanging out with a bunch of white dudes in suspenders all night long?
Ha, yeah, you know we talked about that. It's like we already won Folk Alliance, so there's nothing else we could get out of it. I got married out of it, so, but I think maybe I'd like to go again. Just, like, my schedule hasn't allowed for it the past couple years, but I think it'd be cool to go again just for the hang. Like, it's not, I don't really even care about playing. It's just so much fun to like just wander around the hotel all night and see everybody playing and hang out till 5 a.m.
Yeah, 5 a.m. sounds crazy.
Yeah, yeah, so you know and it's been, you know its 5 a.m. after you've been drinking for like 12 hours, so it's pretty wild.
Yeah it sounds like a fun time.
Yeah, I think it would be cool to just hang out sometime. Maybe play one set or something, but I don't really care about playing. I still have a lot of friends that go every year, so I think it'd be cool to go again sometime.
Right on, I know we're running short on time, so I just had two more questions if that's alright. You've talked about how life would be different if you were skinny and good-looking, but I was wondering if your life would have been different if you had never moved away from Kentucky. It seems like that move kind of set you off on this thing, you lost your friends when that happened.
Yeah, I think so. I think about that, too. Yeah, when I lived in Kentucky, like, I was a fan of music, but I never even thought about it as a thing I wanted to do, really. So I'm not sure.
I kind of, kind of needed to kind of go to Oklahoma and not have any friends in order to sort of dive into playing the guitar and stuff. Also — there was no way to know it in 1995 when we moved there — but like looking at it now, the scene in Oklahoma, the people that I get to play with there, you know, the musicians that I get to play with in my band, the and the people who are the other songwriters there. It's, like, it's such a good scene, and that has really helped me ,to drive me and make me the songwriter and musician that I am, too. So that's another layer of it — that, like, you, know right place right time.
Right on cool man. Well thanks dude. My last question is are you bringing some dice with you to Tampa?
Yeah. I think we always have them so yeah.
Right on. Who is playing guitar on these Florida dates with you? John Calvin Abney?
Yeah, it'll be John.
Full band or just duo stuff?
I think it'll be just us two. I think the rest of the year were doing duo stuff then in the next year we're going to bring the rhythm section back out with us.
Thanks for your time. Sorry to bother you early this morning.
Oh, that's fine.
Right on, man. Well, thanks for your time, and we look forward to seeing you in Tampa.
Cool. Thanks.
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This article appears in Aug 31 – Sep 7, 2017.