Scott Sean White Excavates New Truths From Life For Days Are Long
Singer/songwriter Scott Sean White released his third studio album in June, titled Days Are Long, and it’s an album that really ups the ante sonically, and delves even deeper, emotionally. Working again with Dave Brainard as producer, White continues to explore a variety of styles that lean more towards Country and bring a faster pace to his work. While the album features “both true stories and made-up stories,” that’s a bit of a misnomer, because the songs all have a core of emotional truth. White carefully excavates those truths, sometimes alongside co-writers, and it’s hard to distinguish between which songs have greater impact, the ones taken directly from life, or the ones that come forth from the inspiration of daily life.
While the album is also notable for having two piano-driven songs, and White has a long background as a keys player, something that binds the songs together is a shared focus on perspective. The perspective the songs use is one taking stock of passages of time, utilizing long-distance looks back, and considering what new truths may come into view that we simply couldn’t see before. And those findings are quite striking, leaving the audience with plenty to think about. I spoke with Scott Sean White about his history in music which forms a bit of pre-history to his singer/songwriter work, the terror of new albums, the terror of co-writing, and about allowing yourself to look back in order to excavate new truths.
Americana Highways: Behind your success as a songwriter and singer/songwriter, I can tell there’s a musical history that made your solo work more possible and decisive.
Scott Sean White: My career really started in the Dallas area in the 1990s. I started playing in cover bands around here. I was an engineer at three different recording studios around the Dallas area in the early 90s. I wrote and produced Hip-Hop and R&B for about 15 years before I ever went to Nashville, because the bands I played in were R&B bands. I played keys, and most of my Production clients and studio clients were Rap or R&P.
I started in the early 90s, with all that, and a day job, and in 1995, I ditched the day job, and just went into music full-time, with a combination of all those jobs. Then, in 2005, I made my first trip to Nashville in between band-gigs. I was in one main band for 29 years, a big, corporate/wedding band, who also played clubs. We had three horns and three singers. I ran it, and booked it, and did everything.
In 2018, I sold the business of that, and then focused on songwriting full-time. In 2020, the world shut down, and I suddenly had time to make that first record that I knew that I needed to make but I was in Nashville two weeks a month, and already gigging, doing songwriter shows, and I didn’t know when I was going to find the time. [Laughs] Then, when the world shut down, I realized, “Now, I have time to make the record I need to make.” Once I made one, I was off and running, and have kept putting records out.
AH: I’ve spoken to a lot of people who had that experience with covid, who finally recorded that album, or their first solo album, which had been on their mind a long time. I’m really happy that worked out for you. Was there any trepidation behind that first record? That’s a statement.
SSW: I’m giggling, because there’s trepidation and terror behind every record! [Laughs] Which I didn’t know until I made one. I’ve said to several friends recently, “If covid hadn’t shut the world and make it clear that I had to make this record, I would have had to get a day job again probably.” Because I’ve had some cuts as a writer in Nashville, on Cody Johnson, and Brian Martin, and they stream real well, but none of them have gone to terrestrial radio. It’s been a nice little extra bit of money, but it’s not “pay your bill money,” not even close. So I’m so grateful that I made that first record. That started to really fuel the gigs and the touring, and led into the second record, and led into this record. All of that enables me to tour for a living.
But back to the terror thing, I have friends who have put their first record out since I put mind out, and since I’ve put my second record out, but they’ll call me with the same thing that I’ve felt. It’s good to be able to tell them, “Hey, this is normal.” There is a period of time between the time the record was done and the time the record came out where I would have this overwhelming fear, thinking, “Oh my gosh, am I going to embarrass myself by putting this out??” Every record, you just have this day or two where you’re gripped by fear. Then you calm down, get through it, listen to the record, and say, “No, no, I love this. Whoever loves it with me, great, whoever doesn’t, fine.” People say it’s so exciting to put out a record, and it is! But it is scary.
AH: It must be like that feeling when you go over the rollercoaster loop and your stomach kind of sinks.
SSW: That’s exactly it! I think it’s because each album is a collection of your babies. They are your kids. My wife is always amazed that I get nervous at these shows. She says, “You know, you’ve played in front of 35,000 people.” But those were all cover songs, those weren’t my babies. And I had a band to cover up any clams or mistakes that I made. But when it’s just you and a guitar, or a piano, and your baby, it’s a whole different thing.
AH: You’re also someone who has a solid co-writing history. That can be pretty terrifying too. How did you come to that?
SSW: One of the things that made me fall into co-writing pretty easily was the fact that from the get-go, really, I knew my process in my own head. I would have a million things popping into my brain, and I was sorting through all of them, if I was writing by myself. I would have to filter through everything. I don’t have a trepidation of throwing out something in a room, even if it’s terrible, because I know that you should throw out everything, since you never know what your co-writer or co-writers are going to hear. Even one word may seem terrible, but it makes them say, “Okay, but what about this?” Or, they thought where you were going was a little different, and that’s actually usable and great. But if you don’t throw that fuel out into the room, no one can use it.
I understand that some folks are terrified of co-writing, but part of it is worrying they will think you don’t know what you’re doing. But I learned pretty quick that my process if just to throw out qualifiers all the time. I say, “This is terrible, but…” Or “This is not usable, but…” I know that if I throw that out in the room, it’s going to make someone else break through their block, or make them think differently about something. We’re going to figure it out.
AH: There’s a sense in which the tap has to be flowing, it seems like. It’s a check to the ego, what you’re saying, because there’s such a high attrition rate to ideas. I was reading the notes that you’ve written about these new songs, and something that I was struck by is the role that coincidence in your life played in writing them. It seems like you need a little coincidence in the room to line up with what other people are thinking.
SSW: Yes, and all applies to getting ideas, but mainly I’m talking about how to work on the one song that you’re focused on that day. The ego thing is exactly right. Helene Cronin and I talk about this all the time, but our first priority is always the song. I don’t care if I write five percent of the song, or 95% of the song on any given day. I just care if the song is right. When you think about that, it’s easier to ditch your ego. It sounds kind of idealistic, but when everybody is willing to do it, it works very well.
AH: You’ve worked again with Dave Brainard on this album, and that seems to be a positive thing for you. You have some newish little sound directions on this album. Was that a conversation that you had, or was it more after the fact? It’s both Country-leaning and up-tempo, for instance.
SSW: I went in with those ten songs chosen, and I said to him, “Five of these need to be up-tempo.” I have learned that I need that, the more that I go out and play. My first album had two up-tempo and nine ballads! [Laughs] But I made the record I wanted to make, and I’m proud of it. As you go out and play, you realize, “I’m not Townes Van Zandt, I do need some up-tempo songs.” But everything still needs to have meat on the bone, and I need to find the right songs.
When I first started playing, “Here To Stay,” I was finger-picking it, and my co-writer said, “Man, that’s beautiful, but I can’t play it that way, or I’d just fall apart while playing it.” So he sent me a recording, and it was more of a strumming-driving thing, and I said, “Oh, well that’s cool, and I need more up-tempos on my records!”
I’ve known Dave since about 2006 or 2007. He would produce or mix some demos for me or some of my friends, and I knew he was kind of a left-of-center producer. I went to him on that second record because I needed help figuring things out, like how my voice would sound on an up-tempo record. We’d go step by step, so that I could hear the process. And at each stage I could say, “Yeah, that sounds like me. I think we’re cool.” And then we’d go to the next step. He’s been great about that.
Sometimes he does things, and at first I’m thinking, but not saying, “What the hell are you doing? You’re going to put accordion on that?” Then, I hear it, and it’s the most beautiful thing ever. There are little things, like my favorite example on this record, where we were working on “Six,” and I saw that he had something else in his hand, like a little hand-drum or shaker. He stopped and said, “Whoah, whoah, whoah, wait a minute!” He put that thing down, and he ran upstairs, and he comes back with his kid’s toy xylophone.
AH: That’s amazing! I love that.
SSW: He started playing a counter-melody on the chorus on his kid’s toy xylophone. He pulls the mic towards him, and just plays the background on the chorus.
AH: I think I heard that. It’s a little “ping, ping, ping.” I was thinking, “Something is making it sounds like a child’s music box or nursery rhyme.”
SSW: He thinks in that way. He’s just super-wise. Conversations with him while we’re working are one of my favorite parts of the process. That’s just a quintessential example.
AH: I was going to call out that song, “Six,” for being something that shows the nice variety of different sounds on this album. I think you even adjust your vocals for that song. You sound like you’re actually speaking to a child. That, and “Hold Your Own,” show the range of the album.
SSW: Thank you.
AH: Do you think that you go with even more personal stories on this record, like with “Six” and songs like “Here To Stay”? That’s your territory, but I think you go a little further here, to the point where I’m wondering if you might find them hard to perform.
SSW: There are moments on this record that are that way for me. The last verse of “Six,” about “forgiving that fast.” I knew when we cut the vocals that day, that verse really landed hard. I choked up a couple of times and had to re-take it. Letting that settle in was hard. When World War 3 happened between my step-dad and my mom growing up, or her next relationship, the next day, they’d apologize, and I’d forgive them just like that. Then, as I got older, in my late teens, and early 20s, it was, “The hell with forgiving them!”
I worked through that in the ensuing decades, but looking back at that truth, once I wrote it, I realized, “That’s true. When you’re a kid, it’s easy to forgive Dad and Mom for whatever just happened.” Somebody comes at you with a gun through the side of a trailer, and you think everyone is going to die, but the next day, they say, “I’m so sorry.” And you just forgive them, just like that. That’s a true story. Then you get older, and think, “Oh, no. Just no.”
Thanks very much for chatting with us, Scott Sean White. Find more information here on his website: https://www.scottseanwhite.com/
Enjoy our previous coverage here: REVIEW: Scott Sean White “Days Are Long”