Writer Of The Week: Anthony D’Amato

In his short career, 22-year-old Anthony D’Amato has performed onstage with Bruce Springsteen and earned recognition from The New York Post, who listed his song “For Emily, On New Year’s Day” #26 on their Top 209 Songs of 2009 list, singling it out for it’s “acoustic tranquility.”

For his new album, Down Wires, recorded in the same Princeton dorm that F. Scott Fitzgerald once lived in, D’Amato roped in members of Natalie Merchant’s and Ben Kweller’s bands, as well as Canadian singer-songwriter Sam Roberts.

Tell us about how you ended up performing with Bruce Springsteen.

I opened this year’s Light of Day benefit, which is an annual concert series in Asbury Park, New Jersey that raises money for Parkinson’s research. Springsteen showed up to guest with Willie Nile and Jesse Malin (two of my favorite songwriters), and then he performed a full set with the great Joe Grushecky and the Houserockers. At the end of the show, he had all the night’s performers come out for “Twist & Shout” and “Light of Day.” It was just an absolute thrill to be out there on that stage with him.

Have you ever been tempted to use a stage band name for yourself, like Owl City, or Bright Eyes?

I’ve considered it, and I certainly wouldn’t rule it out for a side project down the line, but when I started recording, it was just me playing every instrument, doing all the vocals and mixing and producing. The only thing that really made sense was to put my name on the project.

How would you categorize your music? Or are you someone who has issues with being pigeon-holed into genres?

Everything I write starts off in “folk mode”–usually just me and an acoustic guitar or a banjo or a mandolin–but that can really change once I start recording and layering up new instruments on top. I think with this album, if you tuned in at different points during the record, you could call it a lot of different genres. “One Good Time” is a straight ahead rocker, but “Holy War” is as acoustic as it gets. “Never Grow Old” is based around a mandolin riff, but it’s got layered violins and and an electronic drum loop propelling it, so I’m really not worried about being pigeon holed with this music.

Tell us about your song “Hank Williams Tune.”

“Hank Williams Tune” is written from the perspective of somebody who has a hard time communicating except through music, books, films, etc. (A.K.A. me). Nearly the entire song is written using titles of other works I’m fond of. It’s about falling for someone with all the same cultural touchstones as you, only to realize that’s never going to be enough.

Talk about the writing and recording process for Down Wires. What recording gear did you use?

I went into the album wanting to write with different voices. When it came time to do the lyrics, I would generally invent a character first, and then write from that person’s perspective. No matter what, your writing gets filtered through your own life and your own experiences, but this turned out to be a really effective way of pushing myself into new territories and styles.

I recorded the basics of the album on a single microphone in my bedroom in a Princeton University dorm. It was a building that once housed F. Scott Fitzgerald, and I’m definitely a fan of his work. He used to write about sensing the ghosts and the history in those old buildings, and I think that’s a pretty inescapable feeling when you’re living and working there. Fitzgerald was the kind of person who really wanted to leave his mark wherever he went, and that spirit definitely informed these recordings.

What’s a song on your new album you really want people to hear, and why?

“My Father’s Son” seems to really resonate with people. That was one of those songs I wrote “in character,” and it deals with the way we tend to look for people to blame for our own shortcomings. Do you learn from the mistakes of the people you look up to in your life or do you inherit their sins?

What’s a lyric you’re particularly proud of on the album?

In “One Good Time,” the narrator recognizes that “Happiness ain’t hard to find / once it’s passed you by.” Writing that was one of those “see the light” moments for me–I realized I was wasting a lot of time looking forwards and backwards, missing out on enjoying the present. It’s easy to spot the good times after the fact, but it takes a little more effort to recognize them in the present and be grateful and take full advantage of them.

How do you typically write songs? Words first, or melody?

I typically start a song by messing around on the guitar. Some little chord change or riff I accidentally played will catch my ear, and from there I tend to start singing gibberish over it until I find a melody or certain vocal sounds I like. Over time the gibberish morphs into actual words (ideally).

Do you find yourself revising a lot, or do you like to write automatically?

I’m an obsessive self-editor. I’m really interested in the sounds of words and how they connect with each other, so I’ll spend weeks on tweaking a single word in a line until I’m certain that it’s got the right relationship with all the words around it.

Who’s an underrated songwriter, in your opinion?

Jesse Malin is one of my favorite songwriters in the world, and I always thought that The Fine Art of Self Destruction didn’t get nearly the recognition it deserved. It’s an absolutely amazing album, gorgeous and dirty and lonesome and messed up. His songs manage to capture these feelings of loss and resignation and regret, but in a way that exorcises them, that turns them into joy and liberation.

What’s a song you wish you’d written?

According to my iTunes play count, it’s “Heroine” by Matt Mays. The song sounds like it was recorded in the back of a car just drifting through some pitch black night. It’s so completely isolated and haunting. It reminds me of Springsteen’s “State Trooper” in that sense. Matt’s written some amazing rock and roll music, too, which makes this stripped-down acoustic song all the more powerful.