The influence of producer Jim James is especially pronounced on Ouroboros, the sixth studio album of Ray Lamontagne’s ever spiraling career. A hodgepodge of tones, textures and ambient atmospherics, it comes across as a series of haunting mood pieces that veer dramatically from the dusty veneer that once brought the one-time Grammy winner flattering comparisons to The Band, Van Morrison, Tim Buckley, Steven Stills and others of a slightly tattered edge. If anything, Outobros resembles a Pink Floyd album of their earlier variety, with songs such as “While It Still Beats,” “In My Own Way” and “The Changing Man” suggesting some sort of cosmic revelation.
Nevertheless, there’s also a darker side to several of its songs, which can make a preliminary listen seem a somewhat daunting encounter. It’s the results of lessons learned, a heady sensibility that arise from sudden inspiration as opposed to any prolonged rumination. And while that tends to shatter any stereotype that Lamontagne’s earlier albums might have left in their wake, it’s also a testament to his willingness to experiment and tamper with the template. Little wonder then Ourobros isn’t an album that fully gels through a single listen. Or that given, Lamontagne’s quiet, unassuming, almost cerebral demeanor, that doesn’t come as any surprise.
Glide caught up to Lamontagne ten days into his current tour with all the members of My Morning Jacket (minus Jim James) as his backing band; a nationwide jaunt that will keep him out on the road through December. Soft spoken to a great degree, we found him quiet, thoughtful, and initially reserved but quite willing to share his thoughts on the way he makes his music.
Is it a challenge to translate what you do in the studio with what you doing now in concert?
Nah! Not at all. We’re professionals, man! That’s what we do. It’s all we think abut. It’s a piece of cake. It’s fun.
It’s been said that this latest album of yours took some time to come to you. You weren’t sure where you wanted to go with it and then it supposedly came to you in a dream And that your demos actually were used for the album. Is that how it transpired?
Not exactly. I demoed the piece in full for Jim (James). I have a very rudimentary home studio, so I played all the guitars and sung all the harmonies and just kind of mapped it all out just so he had a good idea of what I was getting at before we went into the studio. Which is what I like to do anyway. I don’t go in with any questions. I go in with songs that are finished so that all that stuff is out of the way and we can just get to work. I don’t like hanging out in the studio. I like the work, but I like to see it completed so that we can just go in there and get it as good as it can be. But I don’t want to spend a month in there. I like to do it in less than two weeks if we can. I just wanted to give Jim a roadmap. But really, Jim is Jim and he loves things to be really pure. When he heard the demo, it was Jim’s personality to say don’t even mess with it. Just release that. It’s beautiful. It sounds so pure, but of course that’s not what I wanted. I wanted to use good mics, and record it with good players. It really blossomed because so many surprises happened in the studio, and I knew it deserved that.
So when you went in with the demos, how did the other musicians integrate into that?
We just went in and everyone had the demo for awhile and we learned it, and we threw out some ideas and just played it live in the room. We figured out pretty quickly that it didn’t need much, other than us just playing it. That space and silence were going to be just as important as anything we could do or add to it. It became pretty clear that all we had to do was just to play it.
Kind of like a second set of demos then?
No, not really. The demo was just a roadmap that helped the players learn the chords and the changes. Then all the musicians just sat down and played it, and all the musicians brought their own personalities and their own flavor to it, and it just blossomed into something greater… hopefully.
You’ve worked with any distinguished producers over the course of your career… Ethan Johns, Dan Auerbach and so on. Now you have Jim James at the helm. So out of curiosity, what makes you lean towards any particular producer at any given time? Why don’t you stay with the same producer for two albums in a row? You seem a bit restless.
Working with Dan was due to the fact that I really just always loved his music. We got to know each other slightly around the time when I released my second record, and that’s how that conversation started. Working with a producer is for me just having someone else’s ears in the room other than mine. I need someone to bounce ideas off of other people just to prove to me that my initial idea was right. It’s really helpful in a creative situation, I feel, just to have someone to bounce ideas off of. It gives you outside perspective, to get it out of my own head so to speak. That’s really it. I don’t need someone to write songs for me, I don’t need someone to rewrite songs for me, I don’t someone to tell me what the sound is going to be. I already know what I want, and so I just want that other person in there to bounce it off of, and the musicians as well of course. I find it helpful, even if it’s just to clarify my own ideas, my own thoughts.
But when you go to a new producer, does the last one say, hey, let’s do another one? Are there any thoughts about continuing on the same trajectory? You seem to choose a new producer with each project, whereas some artists stick with the same individual because they know their methods.
I think it’s energizing. There are a lot of guys making music that I admire. There are a lot of possibilities for collaboration and you can learn a lot from other people too, seeing how they approach things, how they approach the studio. I like to do things fast. But I’m starting to think as I get older that maybe I should slow things down a bit. I don’t know. I love albums that are imperfect. I love to hear that human element on a recording. I’ve always loved those moments. But I’ve also loved albums that are just appear flawless, at least to the listener. Yet there’s something about being in a studio for more than two weeks that just makes me twitch. I like the focus, but maybe in the future I need to be a little more methodical. I’m not sure.
It seems like you made a pretty dramatic change from the God Willin’ album to the one that came out after, Supernova. You veered from a sound that was very archival, cloaked in this kind of Woodstock mystique, to a set of songs that suggested a kind of psychedelic haze. So is that the path you’re pursuing now?
I never really know until I get in a room and start of waiting for melodies to come. It’s driven by something that’s really unknown. I just open myself up tot he unknown and see what happens. It’s always been that way. In the earlier years, when you’re learning, you may have been working to be heard, to receive things in one direction or another. I’m learning to be really hands off and the less I’m consciously involved, I think it’s better for the work.
So you wait for inspiration to come to you? You claimed that the music for the last album came to you in a dream. Was that the case? It seems a kind of passive way of doing things.
Yeah, it’s a funny sort of balance. When I decide it’s time, I think it out, and I feel that current pulling me and I’m very dedicated. I can be in my room from 7:30 in the morning to 10:30 or 11 at night. It’s all I do. I just pace and I follow the melodies until I hit a roadblock and then I follow another melody untilI hit another roadblock, and I just keep going in that circle. And if things aren’t panning out, I just wait for another piece of melody to filter down and then I follow that. Whatever is fruitful is what I follow. It seems to be producing good stuff. I really feel that the Supernova record was my best work. I feel like I’m just hitting my stride. I’m just getting to a place where my in a good place with that creative energy. I don’t push it, I don’t manhandle it, I just follow it and hopefully use the skills I’ve learned and the tools I’ve learned to just take it ever so slightly and then it’s mysterious to me too as to what it’s all about. (chuckles) I enjoy that mystery for what it is.
You seem like a very cerebral sort of guy. A real deep thinker. Introspective to a degree. Is that a fair assessment?
I’m a homebody and I value my friendships highly and my relationships. I’ve been with my wife for 28 years, and we’ve been married for 20. I’m taking my oldest boy to college this fall in between tours and these things are important to me. Stability is important to me. Fame is not important to me. I’ve never put any energy towards that whatsoever. It doesn’t do anything for me, but the work does. I just love the art form. I love music. It’s such a beautiful powerful art form and I feel like it’s a blessing to be able to do it and make a living at it. I feel really fortunate. But I want to do good work. I don’t want to just go out and tour. There’s a certain element that does it a lot, especially younger bands that just love it because I think they don’t believe there’s any responsibility out there. What strikes me is that a lot of guys like it because they like the image of it. They like the lifestyle that comes with no responsibility and being the coolest guy in the room. That’s not why I do it.
Still, it must be a bit of a conflict. You like the stability of being at home, but yet you’re out there on the road for several months. Is that a challenge to your psyche?
It’s much easier now than it was, because over the years I’ve pulled together a real family out here. My crew is like a second family. They’re just wonderful people — smart, dedicated and really professional. And the My Morning Jacket boys are all so sweet. They’re wonderful to be around. They’re wonderful musicians and great people and really smart and really dedicated to what they do. And we just want to make great music every night. We just want it to mean something to the people that come to hear us. Hopefully it will be something that they remember. That’s what we’re hoping for.
