The Black Crowes Sound Off - from wallofsound, 5.17.01



With a new label, a new producer, a new recording site, and a new, high-profile 

  marriage (to Oscar-nominated Almost Famous star Kate Hudson) for frontman Chris 

  Robinson, it's no wonder The Black Crowes are coming out like Lions this time 

  around. Lions is the group's seventh release (including a Greatest Hits set). 

  Those wanting a leonine reference point should look toward the Crowes' sophomore 

  outing, 1992's The Southern Harmony and Musical Companion, another 

unapologetically 

  adventurous foray that mixes and matches a variety of styles from hard rock 

  and gritty blues to kick-ass funk and righteous gospel.



Produced by Don Was - dubbed "Attila the Was" by the Crowes during the session 

  - and recorded in a renovated Yiddish theater in New York City, Lions shows 

  a degree of influence from the Crowes' touring with Led Zeppelin's Jimmy Page 

  during 1999 and 2000 - particularly on heavy stompers such as "Midnight From 

  the Inside Out" and the stuttering "Lickin'" - but that's only part of the story, 

  as the group stirs together a sonic stew that in less skilled hands would be 

  a bit, um, hard to handle. But Lions has plenty of teeth and firmly establishes 

  the Crowes, who shook their moneymakers more than a decade ago, as music makers 

  first and foremost. Wall of Sound caught up with Chris Robinson to discuss Lions, 

  working with Attila, and how falling in love with Kate helped inspire the new 

  music.



Six studio albums in, what did you set out to do on Lions? 



The one thing we wanted to do in particular was not be bothered with "What 

  is the single?" and not be bothered with any side conversations. We didn't want 

  to have any distractions or interruptions, and we were definitely going to get 

  that or we weren't going to do [the record]. There's just no reason to do this 

  if we're not completely free to do what we want. We have a tremendous amount 

  of ambition as far as what music means to us and what it means to be able to 

  make music; I don't think we can reach that if we don't have that [freedom]. 

  This is definitely just a statement of, "OK, this is how we sound."



How did you hook up with Don Was? Attila the Was?



[Laughs] I had met Don at various things in Los Angeles. We had talked to Don, 

  actually, after we had written a bunch of tunes before our last album, By Your 

  Side. He heard some of it, like the original version of "Only a Fool," which 

  was much better than the one on the album. Don thought that was such a great 

  song. Then we were in L.A. after Jimmy canceled last year, and Rich [Robinson] 

  and I played [Was] about eight songs, and he was, "All right, let's book some 

  time in New York." It just felt right, and we had a great time doing it.



Did you learn any Yiddish while you were recording at the studio?



[Laughs] You know what - it's not a Yiddish neighborhood anymore. It's funny; 

  there was this kid, Darren Ackerman, doing a documentary film on [the recording], 

  and he was out filming some of the neighborhood. He filmed a guy at this storefront, 

  and the guy was like, "You put that fuckin' camera down or I'm gonna hit you 

  with a brick!" I was like, "Right on, man" - that's the last bastion of kick-ass 

  New York right there.



What impact did the touring with Jimmy Page have on the Crowes and on this 

  album?



That whole thing really fell into our laps and took a lot of the bitter taste 

  away and made it really fun to be out there. It wasn't the pressure of The Black 

  Crowes and expectations of those things; we got out of our cult status and into 

  somebody else's.



What inspired the songs for this album?



Well, we really had a wellspring of inspiration to sing from this time. I think 

  in our personal lives, Rich [Robinson] and Steve [Gorman] having new members 

  in their families. For me, meeting Kate [Hudson] and falling in love was the 

  most profound thing that happened to me like that. One day you take a walk in 

  the park, and the next day things are never the same. That's dramatic change 

  and the type of thing that's inspired people to sing for centuries - and paint 

  and express themselves in all kinds of artistic ways.



Have you ever approached an album in this type of mindset before?



I remember getting off the Shake Your Money Maker tour, and when we went in 

  to make Southern Harmony, it was just a dream. We really saw music in this dream 

  sort of state, a beautiful thing, how music rally is the most important thing 

  and that freedom, what that meant to us on a lot of levels. This was the first 

  time since then that I've seen music from that - I hate to sound too flowery 

  - but that sense of wonder, like, "Wow, anything is possible." I can't say I've 

  felt that way about it in a long time.



It's funny you bring up Southern Harmony, because Lions shares a lot of that 

  album's musical spirit and approach.



When looking back, I can say Southern Harmony was the only pressure-free record 

  up to this one. We got off the road and people were so busy adding up the columns 

  of what we made that we went in for a week and made a record without anybody 

  sticking their noses in there or trying to tell us we should do this or do that. 

  We were never really in a nurturing creative environment at American [Recordings]; 

  we were there to make money. I understand those things, but I'm also here to 

  make a body of work. Commercial failures and successes have nothing to do with 

  my reason for being here, creatively.



You may understand it, but it has to be frustrating as well.



Well, if anything, it's a learning experience; it can't be any different because 

  that's just the way it's spelled out for you. And I'm still so interested in 

  music. As much as I hate to say that, and as much as I can curse and try to 

  anesthetize myself to it, at the end of it, this is obviously how it's meant 

  to unfold for us. I would've like to have thought that in the last 10 years, 

  music would become a breeding ground for creativity; there'd be avenues made 

  into making music less stale and corporate and safe and same-old-thing, and 

  people would be rewarded for their independence and integrity. But they're not; 

  they're rewarded for being famous. I think we're in an enviable place; none 

  of my contemporaries that I'm good friends with seem to have made six albums. 

  But let's be honest; who knows how long this is going to go on, how much more 

  we're going to do. Maybe people just don't want to hear The Black Crowes; I'm 

  not deluded enough to think that can't happen.