Years to Burn
Calexico and
Iron & Wine first made an artistic connection with In the Reins, the
2005 EP that brought Sam Beam, Joey Burns and John Convertino together. The
acclaimed collaboration introduced both acts to wider audiences and broadened
Beam’s artistic horizons, but it was the shared experience of touring together
in the tradition of Bob Dylan’s “Rolling Thunder Revue” that cemented their
bond. Their metaphorical roads diverged in the years that followed, but they
kept in touch and cross-pollinated where they could. But although they often
talked about rekindling their collaboration in the studio and on the stage, it
wasn’t until last year that their schedules aligned.
Years to
Burn can’t help but
be different from In the Reins. Back then, Calexico entered the studio
with a long list of previous collaborations (first in Giant Sand, then backing
the likes of Victoria Williams and Richard Buckner) and the knowledge that they
loved Sam’s voice and his songs, but wondering if his material was so complete
and self-contained that it lacked a way in, so hushed and delicate that it
might be overwhelmed. For his part, Beam had been intimidated by their virtuosic
playing and their deep comfort in an encyclopedic array of styles. “In my mind,
I was a guy who knew three chords and recorded in a closet,” Sam says. “They
were playing big stages and were superb musicians.”
Those fears
were dispelled quickly. Calexico was bowled over by Beam’s many talents: “The
arranging, the writing, his sense of rhythm, the quality of his vocals—and then
there’s the experimental side of Sam,” Joey says. “They were the perfect band
at the perfect time for me,” Sam adds. “I loved all their different sounds.
They’re musical anthropologists, not regurgitating but absorbing what they
discover.” Nearly 15 years on, “coming back to the project has to do with
acknowledging how much impact the first record had for me in my life.”
Beam, Burns and
Convertino reconvened in Nashville for four days of recording in December 2018.
Nobody was keen to retread old ground. The change of venue—from Calexico’s home
base of Tucson, where In the Reins was tracked—was one part of the
effort. Together with Niehaus, veteran Calexico trumpet player Jacob Valenzuela and
frequent Beam cohorts Rob Burger (Tin Hat Trio) on piano and Sebastian
Steinberg (Soul Coughing, Fiona Apple) on bass, they settled in at the Sound
Emporium, a fabled studio founded in the sixties by Cowboy Jack Clement and the
site of countless landmark sessions in country and rock over the ensuing
decades. Convertino got chills when he found a framed photo of R.E.M. on the
wall: Document was recorded there.
Another added
ingredient was engineer Matt Ross-Spang, whose recent resume includes producing
Margo Price’s Midwest Farmer’s Daughter, working with Memphis legends
like Al Green in the Sam Phillips studio that’s now Ross-Spang’s home turf, and
winning a Grammy for mixing Jason Isbell’s album Something More Than Free
(another Sound Emporium project). Ross-Spang was assisted by Rachel
Moore; he shares
production credits with Beam, Burns and Convertino.
Beam wrote all
the songs for In the Reins. He took the lead again here, bringing five
songs to the session, but Burns added one of his own in the end too. They took
differing approaches; Sam shared meticulous demos ahead of time and was ready
with arrangement ideas and instrumental parts, while Joey spontaneous as ever,
came in with concepts and an eagerness to improvise. Upon arriving in
Nashville, he also penned a tune.
“Life is hard.
Awesome. And scary as shit. But it can lift you up if you let it,” Sam offers.
“These are the things Joey and I write about now. And the title can encapsulate
a lot of things. ‘Years to Burn’ could mean you’re cocky, you’ve got it made.
Or, our life is ours to burn, to be inspired. Or you’re burned by life,
brutalized. It’s an ambiguous title, because life is complicated. Let’s not
talk like teenagers about love, desire, pain, ‘cause we’re not teenagers. And
that’s not a bad thing.”
“This project
had to find the right time,” Joey concludes. “We’re all different people than
we were in 2004, and music helps to bridge some of the gaps. For all the things
going on in our world and in each of our lives, this connection, this
friendship, this love that we have—this album is a vehicle for that bond. It’s
a chance to see where we’re at, take stock and be there for our friends.”
ANDERS SMITH LINDALL
