Catching Up With… Iron & Wine
A move from Seattle’s Sup Pop Records to Waner Bros. wasn’t the only recent change for Sam Beam. He and his wife had their fifth daughter last year, as he began work on the just-released Kiss Each Other Clean, his fourth full-length studio record. If 2007’s The Shepherd’s Dog was a departure for an artist who began making bedroom recordings so quiet as to not to wake his first child, the new album is miles further down that road. The restrained urgency of those early albums are no longer held back on songs like “Rabbit Will Run” and “Glad Man Singing.” Beam might describe the new album as early ‘70s Los Angeles, but it also sounds like he borrowed a Vox Continental from The Doors and Stevie Wonder’s clavinet. What hasn’t changed are the compelling vignettes and unforgettable melodies that mark the bulk of his catalogue. The former film professor spoke to Paste from Hollywood, where he was preparing for a performance on Conan.
Paste: You’re on the road with a huge tour coming up—how does that work with a family of five girls?
Beam: Oh, it’s awesome man. My wife was so ready for me to leave—nah, I’m kidding. It sucks to get everything you’ve ever wanted and have it keep you from your home. It’s terrible. On the one hand, it’s great because opportunities have come up that I’ve never had before, and the career’s taken a real good turn, but then you have to be kept away from your home life. It’s tough. But everybody’s healthy and okay, just ready for daddy to get home.
Paste: Do you have any sort of traditions when Daddy leaves, a big goodbye party or anything?
Beam: No, not really, because I have to leave too often and we’d be partying all the time.
Paste: Any way to take them with you?
Beam: Not yet; I’m working on it. They come to some of the festivals and stuff. They’ll go to a one-off show, but the bus isn’t really— My youngest is nine months old, so it’s not really the spot for them. But some day—we’re working on it.
Paste: You’ve got your first record coming out on Warner. How’s that affected the making of and marketing of this record?
Beam: Well, it didn’t really affect the making of it at all. I made the record and then the labels came knocking. So they were interested based on what they heard, not what they felt potential for. I think that would be funny. You know, it’s a major label; they have more resources in radio and older relationships. It’s also a little different than most bands that are on a label like Warner that are looking for Warner Brothers to make them into something, whereas we’ve kind of had a trajectory of our own.
I put out a lot of records on Sub Pop, and I thought a change would be nice. It wasn’t like Sub Pop did anything wrong; change is good. It’s just honestly a little bit too early in the relationship to tell what’s coming about because of what they’re doing and what’s coming about because of the work we’ve already done.
But at the same time, I think they’re great. I signed on because I like their roster; they have more resources than the label I was on before, and they have a roster—obviously they don’t tell Wayne Coyne what to do, so I was sort of hoping to get sort of in that camp.
Paste: Speaking of change: the sound on this record is a far cry from what you were doing early on with The Creek Drank The Cradle. You’ve sort of been marching this way for a while, but what was it that inspired you to get the sound you got out of this record?
Beam: I guess it depends on what aspects you’re talking about. As far as songwriting and the way we approached it, we sort of picked up the way we left off. We did talk very specifically about capturing sounds. I wanted to do a live-feeling record, so we went and tracked it live, at least the rhythm section stuff in Chicago. And we talked specifically about late-’60s, early-’70s, or mid-’70s Los Angeles recordings where the reverb was taken away; everything was recorded very dry. So whenever you use an effect, it was a bit more jarring because a vocal with a lot of reverb was very strange in a mix of really dry-sounding acoustic guitars and drums and stuff.
So I like these super-contrasty sonic textures. I like dealing with sharp contrast. It’s the same with synths and acoustic instruments: they’re jarring when they’re put side-by-side, and I like that kind of stuff. It’s time to flesh it out a bit more.
Paste: So have you been waiting all these years to unbottle the funk too?
Beam: Well, there was some funky shit on the last one [laughs]. Even Woman King is kind of funky in its own way, I guess. You keep introducing sonic textures, and—it’s not like we really set about and said, “We really can’t do that. Of this list of things we really haven’t done, what should we do?” You just go in the studio and stay open. It’s not like the only criteria is that we haven’t tried something before. You try lots of different things, and as you go along, you try different things. I don’t think I would’ve known how to incorporate a clavinet in the first record or two; you just learn as you go.
Paste: Would you say this album was pretty fun to make, then?
Beam: Oh, definitely. Hands-down. It was super fun. I like to surround myself with people that I enjoy, and I enjoy the company, and I also enjoy their playing. I like people who surprise me, people who have ideas. It’s a ball. It’s an absolute blast.