‘When people see a wedding, they see bliss and two people holding hands. I see a rented cake and seven girls wearing the same dress’ — Fred Eaglesmith offers a different perspective
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In 2006, Neil Young released Living With War, a caustic response to the state of the world. When asked about the motivation for his album, the songwriter casually replied that he got sick of waiting for someone younger to write a protest album that needed to be made. Less than two years later, Fred Eaglesmith has tapped into the same vein of veteran songsmiths engaging in the most important issues of the times. Released earlier this year, Tinderbox is a shambling country-blues epic that rebukes the vacant spirituality of mainstream religion, giving voice to a sense of discomfort that entire generations have struggled to articulate.
“Jimi Hendrix said a song is only as good as the present air, and I've always been very lucky in that I've been able to capture the mood of what I feel is going on,” says Eaglesmith, whose life as a professional musician began almost three decades ago. “Not on every album, of course, but lots of times I've been able to be ahead of the curve or on the curve. And this one was really just a little ahead of the curve. Because everyone's talking about spirituality, and we're all going ‘fuck it, I just wanna live.’ So I made this album sort of subconsciously that way.”
Born in rural Ontario into a family of strict Christian fundamentalists, Eaglesmith gradually grew estranged from his parents' faith, finding gaping holes in what they considered the only possible option. His current sense of spirituality originated several years ago, when a conversation with his neighbour turned him on to the precepts of Buddhism.
“He said 'Do you know what a Buddhist is?' and I said no, and he said 'You are one.' That was interesting to me,” he recalls. “The great thing is that it always lets you look at something from the other side. When people see a wedding, they see bliss and two people holding hands. I see a rented cake and seven girls wearing the same dress.”
While Tinderbox is the most frank and forthcoming statement Eaglesmith has made about his distaste for certain aspects of modern life, it should hardly come as a surprise to those who are familiar with his engaging live performances. He openly acknowledges that his audiences always include three or four unreachable “barbarians,” from “redneck yahoos” to “fake hippie” types, but he hopes to connect with people in between those extremes and share his message of spiritual enlightenment.
“It's OK to be confused,” he replies when asked what he wants listeners to take away from his shows. “It's perfectly acceptable, as a matter of fact, if you're confused, to stay in that confusion. To look at that confusion. Don't run to get out of it. Instead, stay in it and look at it and live with it. And eventually, you'll see that, you'll move through it naturally, as opposed to pushing yourself out of it.”
Along with the philosophical meanderings, Tinderbox features a bleak musical atmosphere that complements Eaglesmith's characteristic rasp. From the outside looking in, the songs work together beautifully, suggesting a meticulously planned album from start to finish. From the songwriter's perspective, the story is altogether different — recording in fits and starts at his home studio, he never expected the album to take shape.
“At four o’clock in the morning, I would wake up and I would go upstairs, and I would sit down, and I would write a song,” he says. “I would record it right then, that hour. And I just thought I was crazy. I figured it’d never be on an album. Then three days later, I’d wake up in the middle of the night again, and I’d go up and record another song. Soon it got to a point of no return, and I thought, I’m making this record and I can’t even believe it.
“Towards the end of it, I said I’m not going to put this out, this is just going to be a little project I’m doing right now while I get inspired to do something cool. But friends kept coming in the studio and telling me, 'Fred, you’re making this amazing album.' And I had no clue. Even when I put it out, I thought I was going to get murdered.”
Instead, Tinderbox has earned Eaglesmith a cadre of new fans and garnered some of the highest praise of his career, including a long-list nod for the Polaris Music Prize. At the ripe old age of 51, the captive audience he's always deserved has materialized. Now, like any good preacher could tell you, it's his job to keep them in thrall.
