Scott Ballew photo by Daniel Hill
Scott Ballew “Rio Bravo” Blends Visual And Sonic Worlds
Texan Filmmaker and singer/songwriter Scott Ballew released his third album, Rio Bravo, which is his first with La Honda Records, on March 29th, 2024. Having approached songwriting in the last few years of his 30s, Scott Ballew had already spent a lot of time making films for musicians and been impacted by the realization that some of his friends didn’t see a big differentiation between storytelling in different mediums. He has the added advantage of being able to make his own cinematic videos for his work, like the one for Rio Brave track “Suicide Squeeze,” that carries all the mood and weight of the song itself. Additionally, he’s made a mini-documentary about his life and music titled, “Can You Hear Me Smiling?”
Scott Ballew’s music occasionally has direct narrative aspects, but the prevailing feeling is one of emotional arcs witnessed from within that take shape through both imagery and sound. For that reason, though, there’s plenty for the audience to explore in terms of their own emotions and associations, track by track. I spoke with Scott Ballew about his approach to Rio Bravo, the way he explores the connections between visual and sonic experiences, and his hopes for the future.
Americana Highways: This is your third album, and you are versed in the release process, as well as being a filmmaker. What keeps you making music despite how crazy all the aspects of release and reaching audiences can be?
Scott Ballew: I think it’s one of those things where you only do it if you “can’t not” do it. It’s not for the thin-skinned. When I released my first record, it was such a lark and there were no expectations. It’s a good reminder to keep your expectations in check because back then, if five people listened, it was a big surprise to me. Now, I’m fighting being three albums into it, and having La Honda sticking their neck out for me. That creates expectations that weren’t there before when I put out my first two albums on my own, as a filmmaker with a hobby that I was proud of.
I don’t want that to change my approach to writing and putting it out. You have to approach it thinking, “If anyone hears this, I will be happy.” It’s really hard, whether you release a film, a music video, or song, not to hit upload and in the back of your mind, hope it will catch on.
AH: I saw the live videos that you’ve released recently that are subtitled “Live from Jail.” That’s a great way to reach people with new music. They were filmed down in New Orleans, right? Is that a studio?
SB: Actually, yes, my friend owns this jail in Treme that he turned into a little bed and breakfast. We did those in November when I was recording another album that I’m mixing now. The Western AF guys, who do really quality live performance videos, were down there to capture some content about making the record, but after a week of that, I recorded these three songs a the jail, since the cameras the microphones were there. I did those one day after the rest of the crew left.
AH: I thought they were really nice videos. It does present the songs differently to hear them like that. For instance, “Suicide Squeeze” is great to hear in both versions.
SB: Which one did you hear first?
AH: I heard the studio version first, when I watched the video that you made. That has all the texture to it. But I was happy that I listened to the acoustic version because I could hear the bones of the song and see the songwriting tradition behind it in a more pronounced way. It evoked different emotions.
SB: Being a songwriter recording music is relatively new to me, though a lot of my friends are musicians and I’ve always been around, making films of musicians. But I was the guy that heard a demo and fell in love with the demo, then was crushed when I heard the recorded version. I’d think, “This is over-produced!” Or, “I can’t hear the words.” Then, I started recording my own, and I think I have some insecurities with my own voice. I don’t have a classic voice and I’m not a great guitar player, so once I started to understand recording, I started to link up with musicians who could do the things that I could hear in my head. It’s like making a film, where you color correct, mix sound, and present it in the best way possible.
I was telling the Western AF guys, “I don’t want the raw version being the first version that people hear.” Because I think the arrangements, and the sounds, and the instrumentation, the delivery, and the mix are how I hear the song. It’s how I heard it when I wrote it. But it is nice, going back and saying, “This is how I wrote it.” You’re right, there are certain structural nuances that come out when it’s just you on a piano or guitar that maybe don’t translate with a full band. One version is how I hear it, but the other is a little glimpse into how it started.
AH: Do you have plans for playing this album live?
SB: I do. I get asked to play some solo shows, and in the right environment, that works really well, like a 100-person listening room. I get excited to play by myself. My songs are lyric-driven, so it works if people are really listening. Bigger environments are better with a full band, where we could rock and really get into the groove. David Byrne has a really good book about the history of music and how people wrote based on the rooms that they were playing in, How Music Works. I’ve thought about that a lot in terms of how I write music and where I play.
I have a day job making films and documentaries, so I haven’t really had the opportunity to go on a full-on tour yet, other than four nights here and there, so I’m hoping that changes. I’ve just left a full-time job after 9 years to enter the freelance world, to give myself more opportunities to tour or play some festivals. I love playing live but it’s hard to do it just every now and then. It’s been much easier for me to write and record music than it has been to tour it.
AH: it feels like things have shifted in our generation where people might have more than one job, or more than one pursuit in their lives or at the same time. Previous generations seemed more built on one pursuit only.
SB: Yes. Our parents grew up, graduated, then they went to work at a bank for 50 years and they were a “banker.” They had a career. I think it’s a little easier to have multiple careers now over the course of a life or multiple careers at the same time. The goal or the trick is to make them all work together, where one elevates the other. Money is a real thing! The truth is that there’s not a lot of money to be made in the music business, unless you’re the top 1%. Even my heroes are not likely to make the living that they want based on music alone. That’s just the truth. I think that’s always in the back of my mind. You don’t need to sacrifice everything to create something meaningful and lasting.
Terry Allen was sort of the opposite end of the spectrum for me, who I ended up meeting and making a film about. He was a teacher for a long time, making fine art, sculptures, and paintings, and he’s always just made the music that he wanted to make. There were decades where no one listened, and there were more people on stage than in the audience, but he had this happy, steady life. Music was just something he loved to do and it came in waves for him. I think I inherited my approach to all the different facets of art and songwriting, life and friendship, from him. I think you don’t need to be self-destructive and miserable to create something powerful.
AH: Was your friendship with him particularly helpful to you because he is a visual artist as well as a music person? And so are you. Being able to see through those two lenses and find a synergy between them seems like a good thing.
SB: I don’t think that Terry has ever looked at those two things differently, and I haven’t either. Terry wakes up and sometimes he goes to his studio. Sometimes he sits at the keyboard, sometimes he gets out the brushes, sometimes he’s doodling, sometimes he’s sculpting. It all works together. I don’t think that anyone has ever heard a Terry Allen song and thought less of it because he also paints.
AH: Right. Very good point.
SB: I think I have this idea that might be in opposition to some kind of purist idea of how to do things. I think of songs like films, and I think of films like songs. That’s kind of how I write and record songs. The structure, and the arc, and the emotion, are really similar in my mind. I don’t know if that translates to how people receive them, but when I’m in the edit room, my foot is tapping like I’m mixing a record in a studio.
AH: Obviously, a lot of traditional songwriting is also storytelling, but do you always feel like there’s an emotional arc in your songs, even if the narrative arc is not spelled out?
SB: Yes. I think my own personal style of songwriting is not traditional storytelling. I think it’s a little more cryptic and poetic. I kind of think of albums as telling one big story and I can think of a song in three acts, emotionally. But I haven’t really set out to tell a narrative other than a couple of times. I think my goal, with a film or with a song, is that I’m “emo.” My goal is to make you cry, either with laughter or with pain. As long as you feel something, than I’ve done my job.
AH: Your lyrics are almost surrealist in the sense that little images from the subconscious fit together, and each one has an emotional load to it. I think “All That Is Sacred” is a little more traditional and it has that life story embedded in it. But some of the lyrics on other songs feel like the internal story, or someone’s internal state. But “Mutiny” and “Can You Hear Me Smile” are a little more that way. I think that “Suicide Squeeze” and “All That Is Sacred” have a little more explicit storytelling. I’m glad that you allow yourself to do both.
SB: Yes, that would be limiting. I have set myself exercises before, to get out of a funk, where I’ll pick up a photo book, for instance of Dennis Hopper photos, and say, “I’m going to try to write a fictional narrative based on these pictures, creating characters.” But most of my songs start from a seed of personal truth, like “Mutiny” or “Can You Hear Me Smile”, and the rest of the song is trying to figure out what that is. To me, like all good books and stories, the best songs aren’t laid out completely, telling you what to think, see, or feel. I think if you can leave a little bit up for interpretation, that’s what makes listening fun. Then it relates to your own life somehow, without being told why.
Thank you very much for chatting with us, Scott Ballew! You can find more information and details here on his website: https://lahondarecords.com/pages/scott-ballew