A year ago Eric D. Johnson was sitting on the edge of the Brighton Music Hall stage, feet dangling and singing songs unplugged that spanned his sixteen year career with nothing but an acoustic guitar and his Roger Hodgson-Supertramp-esque voice. Not on purpose, the impromptu unplugged-nearly all request set was the result of an unbearable buzz coming from his keyboard and guitar set up. He was billed as the opener for fellow Pacific Northwesterner Vetiver, simply as EDJ, a departure from the Fruit Bats moniker he’d used since he first recorded music onto a four track recorder back in early 2000. The mysterious shift to EDJ was accompanied by an L.P. of the same name and whose songs we can only guess would have made up much of that opening set before he reluctantly surrendered to playing the bare bones set. What was so endearing about that particular performance was not the humility and improvisation that Johnson displayed from his sudden decision to grab his acoustic, but how the forty or so attendees there all started calling out their favorite Fruit Bats songs. For me it was “Feather Bed,” for others it was “When You Love Somebody,” “You’re Too Weird,” “Ruminant Band”…the list went on and on. You could tell by the way people gathered around Johnson that those songs meant something special to them, and perhaps in that moment Johnson might have came to that realization as well.
Fast forward to a year later, Johnson has reformed Fruit Bats and released a new record titled Absolute Loser that might give those long time fans a glimpse into the struggles that the otherwise uplifting singer-songwriter had been dealing with during the hiatus of Fruit Bats. Grief from the result of his wife’s miscarriage set Johnson into a whirlwind of existential confusion influencing a confessional record that perhaps didn’t quite fit the mold or spirit of Fruit Bats. With Absolute Loser and the return of Fruit Bats there is a reconnection not only with the name but also the strong melodic folk-pop sound that passionate fans fell in love with.
We got to hear the large chunks of the new record for the first time along with a slew of familiar favorites as Fruit Bats embark on a national tour that started here in the northeast and rolled through the Once Ballroom in Somerville this Saturday night. We also caught up with Johnson before the show to chat with him about the new record, his passion for scoring films, and his love of the Grateful Dead.
Allston Pudding: Fruit Bats as your fronted solo project disbanded for a few years. How did you come to the decision to bring them/it back to life?
Eric D. Johnson: I’ve been getting that (reasonable) question a lot. There’s a lot to it, but the simple answer is that I realized that whether I like it or not, the name is “me” at this point. It’s always been me and a revolving cast of characters. I have a boring first name and it was way easier back in the day to just come up with a band name. When I was touring as “EDJ” it took so much effort to explain “This is the dude from Fruit Bats” that it just made more sense to start using the name again. A lot of bands are coming back together as some sort of money grab in order to headline Coachella or whatever, but that’s not the case here. There was never any money! Nor are we headlining Coachella, for that matter. Still waiting on that call. I dunno – I’m happy to be back getting paid to sing songs, and if it really just takes me changing a couple of words around, I’m cool with that.
AP: You emerged in an era that got defined as “freak folk.” Would you still describe your music this way today or at all?
E.J. Not at all, no. And although a lot of my best friends were in bands that were kind of lumped in with that scene, we never were so much. I’m quite certain none of those guys came up with the term “freak folk,” nor did they like it much. That seemed to be a product of the press as much as anything, as is often the case with those “movements.” I’ve always kind of thought of myself more as a pop dude at heart, anyway. But I love folk music, freaky or otherwise. If you’re basically nice and cool and want to buy my records and come to my shows, and my music means something to you or does something to you – you can call me anything, I don’t care.
AP: You’ve scored a couple films. Where did the idea of scoring films come from or how did these opportunities get presented to you?
E.J. Through touring and meeting people and living in LA, I was lucky enough to befriend a few different young buck directors and made it clear to them that if they ever needed a composer that I was their guy. And then even luckier that they ended up making movies and hiring me. I’ve always wanted to be a filmmaker. That was my first career choice and obsession growing up, I just devoured it constantly. I fell into music a bit by accident and just took to it. So composing scores feels very full circle to me. It uses very, very different muscles than making records with a band. Working to picture is so, so fun.
AP: You’re quite the collaborator, how have all these collaborations shaped your evolution as a musician? Which one(s) do you look back upon as the most meaningful?
E.J. If you’re creating anything, community is super key. Everyone I’ve worked with has been important to me. My relationship with Califone in early on was really huge because before that I had no idea how idea how anything worked. Through those guys I toured for the first time, met the world and saw how all the gears moved. It made me go “I think I can do this.” And those guys were like “yeah, you can do this.” I’m honestly not even sure what I’d be doing if they hadn’t invited me aboard. That was a watershed. But so was Shins, so was Vetiver, and I learned so much from all those dudes. And they learned from me too.
AP: You’ve worked on the Last Waltz recreation, did you get asked to be a part of the Day of the Dead project? Feel snubbed?
E.J. Ha! Snubbed, no. I’m actually on Day of the Dead singing harmonies on “Playing in the Band.” My buddy Josh Kaufman was one of the producers and tried to give me a shot singing lead but no dice. But I don’t feel snubbed. I did get picked on by indie people for a long-ass time for being a Dead fan, so it’s both nice and weird to see this modern embrace. I dunno. I have no sense of ownership though.
AP: It seems sort of well known that you’re a dead head. What is your favorite Grateful Dead song and why? Or your fondest Grateful Dead memory (maybe first show or playing with Bob Weir?)
E.J. I have lots of hallucinogenic memories at actual Grateful Dead shows, too long and mystical to recount. I’m probably from the last generation to have been able to tour and see lots of Jerry-era shows. But to be honest, listening back to bootlegs of shows I’d been to, they were hit and miss at that time. Certainly with moments of transcendence. All the recent 50th-anniversary punditry about the Dead fulfilling this promise of what America should be – the road, the freedom – that’s pretty accurate and it kind of changed my life seeing them when I was like fifteen. Just kind of a portal into a different world, even though I’m well aware now that it was way over the hill at that point, too. But nonetheless was special for my young mind. I discovered indie rock in Chicago shortly thereafter and that was as or more huge – so much more graspable. It was those two things crossfading at that strange moment that really shaped me. Oh, and Bobby Weir still kills it – he’s still got the voice and everything. Yeah, playing with him was insane. I actually teared up a little bit, it was kind of a “how far I’ve come” moment. Never could have dreamed it.
AP: I just watched the video for “Humbug Mountain Song” and I always loved “You’re too Weird.” Some of your videos seem to have an element of humor in them. Do you have visions for what songs you want to make videos for and ideas on how you’ll act them out?
E.J. I think most funny videos are a result of low budgets – it’s easier to go for laughs when you don’t have a lot of dough. Plus I’m a forty-year old dude at this point. My videos better be funny, at least if I’m gonna be in them. If I had the money I’d do a video for every song, I love doing videos. Goes back to my film thing I guess.
AP; You’re newest album is titled Absolute Loser I know you’ve released the song for it, but how did you come to this title and/or what is this song about that made you want to pen it as the name of the album?
E.J. Well, this album has some pretty heavy subject matter in that it’s about my wife having a miscarriage. So “Absolute Loser” really refers to someone feeling an absolute loss as in “one who loses everything.” Not really loser in the sense of a person who is a dork or something! There was just something evocative about it to me.
AP: How would describe the writing and recording process for getting Absolute Loser made?
E.J. I wrote and got the recordings started at my studio in Portland, which is kind of a small space I’ve really set up more for film scoring but is great for demoing and small projects too. I usually use the studio as a writing tool but I consciously tried to write with acoustic guitar and Iphone this time around just to make things a little more immediate because of the intense subject matter. But I also tracked some basics in Portland after that. Then, like my last few records, I went to LA and did pretty much everything else with my producer/soulmate Thom Monahan. He and I have a shorthand language for record making. We record for a bit, take a break and eat tacos, talk about records or movies for three hours, forget we were recording, then record more until we need to sleep. I spent a fair amount of it drunk and/or stoned and didn’t put on shoes for weeks on end. It’s how I like it.
Fruit Bats are out on tour now and check out a few pics from this past Saturday’s show at Once Ballroom in Somerville.
