Crowe alone Fresh clay for the Black Crowes' Chris Robinson by David Kirby - - - - - - - - - - - - (buzz@boulderweekly.com) / http://www.boulderweekly.com/archive/111303/buzzlead.html 11.13.03 So, how's the weather in Colorado?" asks Chris Robinson, half sounding like he really wants to know. Cloudy, drizzly, I say. I had chipped a quarter inch of ice off my windshield that morning, and I'd been walking around with one of those Charlie Brown mad-squiggles over my head all day. "Eh. It was nice a few months ago," Robinson says. "We were up in Lyons for the Folks Festival." I said I guess I didn't know that, and anyway, what was Chris Robinson, certified post-glam rocker, doing up in Lyons messing around with the high- altitude hayseed battalion? "I grew up on that country festival thing, man," he says. "A lot of people don't know that about me. We used to go to hootenannies all the time. That was part of the drill for us when we were kids." Robinson's got a kind of liberated animation to his voice and conversation. It's the kind of thing interviewers appreciate and detest simultaneously; the subject opens up and just talks, about the work or the career or the music business or records or anything, and you have that control-neutral experience of just talking with the guy, which is fun and educational. But you usually end up roundfiling most of your questions, and preparation, and it makes it harder to write the story you originally intended to write. His story isn't too tough to follow- frontman for the Black Crowes, the quintessential upstart southern rock 'n' soul and boogie outfit he started with his brother Rich in 1984. Bestraddling cult determination and classic-rock thematic musical ethics, they flirted with mainstream success with their first record (rode a nasty cover of Otis Redding's "Hard To Handle" into the charts in 1990), weathered the techno-pop, indie and grunge tides with prideful fealty to their roots and toured with the likes of Jimmy Page and Oasis between commercially lukewarm album releases until 2001. The band's last show was Halloween that year, and they officially went "on hiatus" the following January. Conventional wisdom holds that the Crowes are now done; we chose not to press the issue with Robinson, as he's touring on his first solo CD and is halfway through its follow-up with his new band New Earth Mud. "Everything we're doing has been totally validated," he says. "As your life and your work continue, in real time, you see the people coming out and being there, part of the moment. It's. such a rare thing, you know, in this whole rock 'n' roll business these days, when everything is about how many units you sell in the first week on the street. "I think about the guys that influenced me the most-Alex Chilton, Syd Barrett, Gram Parsons-and you remember when they were doing their thing, their genius wasn't immediately obvious to everyone," he continues. "Over time, they came to be appreciated for what they were doing." Robinson wasted little time after the Crowes were grounded to get to work. He wrote a series of songs at home in Malibu, all new, none of them Crowes holdovers, and called up a few British friends (Paul and Jeremy Stacey, Mark Ford) whom he had met when they rehearsed and toured with Oasis in 2001, and recorded the first New Earth Mud CD in Paris. Built around Robinson's acoustic guitar, the CD balances Robinson's reedy voice and lyrics of pained regret and bittersweet redemption. "I'm not interested in fables anymore/And all those bright-eyed children at the gate," he sings on "Fables" or "My body's weak but my mind is strong/And I am tired for I have come a long way," he laments on "Silver Car"-arguably the best song on the CD. Have the Crowes' fans accepted his new guise? He thinks for a while. "No. not really. Well, some of them have. Because the Black Crowes were such a cult band, I think it's tough for some people to adjust. It takes time. I mean, it could be a lot worse; I'm afforded the opportunity to make records, and go out and play. Everything has a balance, you know? This is different. Some people will come along, and some won't." I came along. I told him, and I meant it, that I liked this CD. The songs were good, the arrangements were good. Strong melodies, capable production, not too dressy. And I was ready to hate it because, as I told him, I was one of the biggest Black Crowe skeptics that I knew. I didn't like their records, their attitude, their classic riffs or the chip on their shoulder. I almost got punched out in front of the Oasis some years ago by a reader who took pointed exception to my negative review of Three Snakes And One Charm. (To satisfy myself, I went back and listened to it again, and still didn't like it.) Robinson laughs. "We were a very committed group," he says. "I have a lot of that attitude myself, and I know the fans did also. But there was a lot of anger in the Black Crowes, I think that comes out in the music at times; sometimes we could channel it into something good, and sometimes we were just angry. There was so much drama. So, yeah, you talk about freedom or liberation. it's just much easier for me now to make decisions, not having to deal with politics or egos." Robinson and New Earth Mud-which includes former Lenny Kravitz keyboardist George Laks, bassist George Reiff and the Stacey brothers on guitar and drums- are in the midst of a few dates with Gov't Mule, to be followed by a few headliner dates on their own. And then, Robinson says, it's back to the studio for the New Earth Mud follow-up. "Totally different, totally different," he says, when asked to compare to the first NEM record. "It's more expansive, more dramatic. clandestine. It's a modern psychedelic record. The first one, I went in and recorded a bunch of tracks on the acoustic guitar, and we just built the songs around that. This time the band is playing it live. I mean, I didn't really have a band the first time through. Now, after all the live gigs, we're a band. "It's called This Magnificent Distance," he continues. "We'll finish it up when we get off the road later this month. Hopefully it'll be out in the spring." Robinson is expecting a child early next year, before the CD is released. Scary stuff, that? "No, not really. Just different," he says. "Not scary." We both pause. "There's no turning back now, man," he says, and I agree. Chris Robinson's New Earth Mud opens for Gov't Mule at 8 p.m., Thursday, Nov. 13, at the Fox Theatre, 1135 13th St., Boulder, 303-443-3399, and headlines, with Rose Hill Drive opening, at 10:30 p.m., Friday and Saturday, Nov. 14 and 15, at Cervantes Masterpiece Ballroom, 2637 Welton St., Denver, 303-297-1772.