Q&A: Sara Watkins

I could use this introduction to tell you things you already know about Sara Watkins– how she was one third of the Grammy-winning quasi-bluegrass trio Nickel Creek, or that in addition to being a veritable fiddle virtuoso she also plays guitar and ukulele. I could also list a handful of the many musicians with whom the 27-year old singer-songwriter from California has already worked (Gillian Welch, Tim O’Brien, Benmont Tench, and Jon Brion, to name a few). I could tell you that Led Zeppelin bassist John Paul Jones was so impressed by Watkins that he told her if she “didn’t let him produce her record, he would never talk to her again.” All of these accomplishments would certainly paint the portrait of a young musician with a world of talent and potential, but wouldn’t give Watkins the full credit she deserves.

I had the privilege of talking with Sara backstage at Vanderbilt University’s Rites of Spring Music Festival about Sara Watkins, her recently released debut solo album. She exuded an infectious warmth and humble friendliness that many artists of her experience seem to have a hard time holding onto, even offering me the only available chair and opting to herself sit in the grass while we talked. Beneath the virtuosity and behind the musical history is a woman steeped in heart and humility, still finding herself as both a songwriter and as a person. Here’s what she had to say.

Most people know about your history with Nickel Creek, but how did you get into playing music initially?

I got into music when I was recommended to go to this pizza parlor where there was a quasi-bluegrass band that had a residency and played every Saturday night for years and years. So from the time I was two until I was about seven we went every Saturday night to see this band called Bluegrass, Etc. play. Long story short, the bluegrass community was small and it would be the same 100 people that came every week and I would just fall asleep listening to the stuff around eight o’ clock and we would stay until eleven and just listen to the band. I would usually be asleep on a bench but when I was four, I asked the band to play “Long Black Veil.” I loved the song. I heard the band do it a lot and the mandolin player and sort-of frontman of the band said, “Well yeah, why don’t you come sing it with me?” I said, “Well I only know the chorus but that’s great.” He took me up after the break and on the chorus I chimed in and sang along. I remember feeling like the stage was so tall and kind of rocking out of dizziness because of the height of the stage. And when we went back to that pizza parlor it was literally a foot and a half off the ground (laughs). But I was four and nervous.

So they would continue to have us up and have me up to play songs and not long after, my brother [Sean Watkins] started playing mandolin and Chris Thile started playing mandolin as well and they both took lessons from the band. When I was six I started taking fiddle lessons too, so the band would have the three of us and maybe one or two others up to play with them on different songs every week. That’s how Nickel Creek started—we got to know each other that way. And it was also the beginning of my musical experiences as well.

Who are some artists you consider influential?

You know, looking back from now I see different artists that have made an impact that I wouldn’t have necessarily mentioned before. When I was growing up my mom and I would listen to Linda Rondstadt’s Greatest Hits Vol. 1 and I loved it. I did “Different Drum” tonight because I remember singing that song and just yelling it in the car with my mom. That record really sunk in. It’s a great record, and the Stone Ponies [Rondstadt’s band] is a terrific band– the instrumentation is wonderful. It’s a real soft spot for me. Emmylou Harris’ Roses in the Snow record was a really big one for me as well. I discovered it after the fact– it came out in the early eighties and I found it for myself around 2001 or 2002. I rediscovered what I love about harmony with that record– she sings so well with the Whites and Ricky Skaggs. There’s a certain quality and hominess of those songs, and I love the way that they were put together. I love that record. There are a lot of other bands I love. Tim O’Brien is still one of my favorite musicians. And recently, after her fame, after all of the craziness went down for her, Fiona apple became a big influence for me.

You toured with her, right?

Yeah we toured on the “Farewell For Now” tour and I’ve gotten to know her over the past three or four years through this club we play called Largo in Los Angeles. I’m such a fan of her interpretation of songs and her way of owning them and commanding them. Her vocal improvisational abilities are so much more than just licks and so much more than frivolous movement. She possesses those songs when she sings them and is so humble about it as well.

I think Wilco is one of those bands that encompasses a lot of what I believe in and I identify with about music. The instrumentation is great and I relate to it a lot. Then there is a lot of stuff I love that I don’t relate to as much at all, and those are really exciting. Of Montreal is great. I love Kings of Leon and Radiohead too, of course. But bands that I don’t understand are also really intriguing (laughs).

Having played with Nickel Creek for most of your life, what was it like transitioning to life as a solo artist?

It has been interesting and really exciting, empowering and also frustrating. And I want to learn how to do it better– “it” meaning I want to learn to manage myself better. I have a manager but I want to learn to be more self-sufficient and to be more capable and to just be able to handle more, like multi-tasking. I don’t want to be so overwhelmed with details about travel and logistics. I want to be able to handle all of that and still be able to put everything into a show. I haven’t had to deal with those issues in a long time so my tolerance is down. But I’m learning how to do it. I’m traveling with my brother [Sean Watkins of Nickel Creek] and a couple other musicians and they are helping me a lot out of the office, although I don’t have anybody with me. Even still, I notice that I get frustrated but I’m getting better at managing that time and managing those frustrations.

Musically, it is a little bit of a challenge in that I’m used to having these wingmen around me. Sean and Chris [Thile, of Nickel Creek] were always there and if I wasn’t sure about a decision, they were passionate about it and I could just go with them and trust that everything was going to be fine. Now if I’m indifferent on a decision, I still have to make a call, and I have to make sure it’s a good call. So it takes a little bit more time to navigate through some foggy waters sometimes but it is also really good for me to have to put a little more energy into making sure that I’m comfortable with everything and that I am willing to stand behind all of these decisions personally. It has been a really fun process. I think I’m at a really good point in my life to be doing it. I feel more confident in my ability to handle it and to flourish than I think I would have felt in earlier years.

You wrote or co-wrote 8 tracks on your new album. I saw you [with Nickel Creek] in Knoxville in October of 2007, and if my memory serves me correctly you played one of these 8 tracks, “All This Time.” I remember it because the sincerity and universality of the song really struck me. Tell me a little about your songwriting process. Has your approach changed since leaving Nickel Creek?

I didn’t write a whole lot when I was with Nickel Creek because it was slow to come to me. I knew that the odds of me writing a song in my early stages and having it be the quality of Chris and Sean’s songs or the quality of one of the songs we were covering were slim to none. So honestly, I did co-write several of the tracks on the last Nickel Creek record [2005’s Why Should the Fire Die?] and I wrote “Anthony” and I was delighted that the band did it. But when I really started to write was in the last couple of years touring with Nickel Creek because of this show my brother Sean and I had called the Watkins Family Hour, which we do [at Largo] in LA. It’s become a proper show but it is also a safe place to try out new material and it’s low pressure, where you can do a song once and not feel like you have to do it forever. The crowd isn’t going to be bummed if they hear a song that wasn’t off of a record. They are pretty much volunteering for an experimental show a lot of the time, which is really helpful and they are always encouraging in that. Something that the crowd there really loves, I think, is an insight into the creative process and the spontaneity that all of the artists feel when they come there. So a lot of the songs I wrote were written with that outlet in mind. I wasn’t writing for a bluegrass band or for a quasi-bluegrass band, I was just writing for myself. For the last few years I have really identified most with those performances at Largo and I feel like I’ve become much more comfortable because of the frequency of those performances. So I also feel more comfortable putting stuff out there.

I’m glad you said you thought “All This Time” was very honest because it is. A lot of the songs I wrote at Largo I feel comfortable putting out there if they are honest because I feel like the performances there are very honestly me, rather than a brand name like Nickel Creek became. And I love that brand name but when you are a beginning songwriter or when you feel like you’re just starting to have something to say, it’s a little scary to have to live up to that. Do you write songs yourself?

I play guitar and mandolin, so I do write some instrumental pieces. I write lyrics sometimes, too, but don’t think anybody would want to hear me sing (laughs).

That’s great.

You chose a pretty wide range of covers for the album, from Tom Waits’ “Pony” to Jon Brion’s “Same Mistakes.” What made you choose these specific songs?

That was one thing that, when I started thinking about the songs for the solo record, was really exciting– the idea of introducing Nickel Creek fans to these people they might not know. I know some of them are familiar with Jon Brion, David Garza, and there are plenty of Tom Waits fans in every field of music. But I was really excited about getting these songs out there, as well as getting a Norman Blake song to people at Largo, people who are more likely to know David Bowie songs than Norman Blake songs.

That was something that was really fun—getting with musicians whom I knew would love to play all of these songs. First we just played them live for a while, everyone in LA anyway. Largo had heard us playing these songs for about a year or more. We were in the studio and Jon Brion was there the first day and dropped off instruments for us to sort of play with so we could have some extra toys around. He played a little guitar on “Any Old Time,” which was the first one we recorded. I think we did “Too Much” next. So we got “Any Old Time” and Jon is like, “Sweet, what’s next?” and I said “Too Much” and he said, “Awesome I love that song!” It was a really fun environment because all these guys knew each other and we were just having a really fun time with songs we were all familiar with. John Paul Jones was also a great guide in bringing them to the next level.

Speaking of John Paul Jones, he produced your new solo debut album. How did working with him change your final product?

He is so sweet and so trustworthy and communicates really well. He gives the musicians, including me, enough credit to really explore what we want to explore. And if we’re going the wrong direction he will corral us a different way. For instance, when we were tracking we would go through the song one, two, maybe three times and instead of coming back on the talkback mike from the control room and saying, “It sounds good but I think the riff could be tighter here” and “you’re stepping on the bass part on the chorus” and nitpicky, tweaky things, which many great producers do, John didn’t say anything. 15-20 seconds would go by and he just waited until the band started talking to each other. Greg the pedal steel player would say, “Sean what are you doing there on the bridge? I think I’m kind of stepping on you, what are we doing?” He allowed us to communicate with each other and play for each other, rather than play for him. And we were playing for him no matter what (laughs), but I think it allowed for very natural performances.

Are there any other acts you’re hoping to catch tonight?

Flaming Lips, definitely.