I'm sitting in the music hall of Capital Ale House waiting for soundcheck to begin when "The Payback" comes on over the restaurant sound system.  It's a break-up song of sorts - one where the pain of being wronged by love is filtered through an unparalleled James Brown machismo hell-bent on one thing: revenge.  One cannot help but find humor in the different approaches people take to handling the break-up process.  While we can all sympathize with James Brown's threats to trade karate for "ka-ray-zay" in the wake of a failed romance, Dean Fields comes from a slightly different school of thought regarding the aftermath of a broken relationship.  Opting for a more constructive approach to the healing process, Dean holed up in his Miami apartment and wrote away the pain of a long-term relationship gone bad through the nine songs that made up his 2002 debut album Imitations, which went on to sell 5000 copies on independent release.  After receiving genuine praise and interest from the local press including the Miami Herald ("Go, so you can say you saw him when"), Dean "just woke up one day and said, 'screw this, all I want to do is play music.'"  And with that realization, Dean took his show on the road with unwavering dedication.

Seven years later, with hundreds of shows and another two records under his belt, Dean Fields has returned to his hometown of Richmond.  His latest record Everything Just Happened the Way That It Happened (2008) was written in bars, venues, vans and hotels while on tour since 2003, and includes several expanded full-band versions of songs from his second album Songs on the Mend (2006), a solo acoustic effort.  It is clear from these records that Dean has come into his own as a songwriter.  No longer able to be pigeon-holed as merely a guy who writes break-up songs, Dean tackles a whirlpool of emotion that comes with the territory of spending one's life on the road and investing exhausting amounts of energy into creative pursuits with a graceful, understated eloquence.  His ability to communicate simply the nature of such weighty subjects draws in more followers with each performance, as one cannot help but relate to the humanity that permeates his unpretentious articulation of life's hardest lessons.

This utter lack of pretense radiates from Dean, both onstage and off.  At this particular hometown show, Dean meets and greets with almost the entire audience - most likely a slew of familiar faces from his past - before hitting the stage.  Once onstage, I cannot help but feel comfortable in his presence, as if he were a peaceful minister who has no problem sharing his soul with his parishioners in order to provide them with a little solace from their complicated lives, if only for an evening.  He has a great rapport with the audience, and aside from the usual dull roar of conversation in the back of the room that has become a trademark of the Richmond live music experience, the crowd is absorbed in his performance.  As there was no opener, Dean and company (Trey Pollard - guitar/pedal steel; Cameron Ralston - stand-up bass; Wells Hanley - drums/piano) had plenty of time to run through a sizable chunk of their catalog as well as a few new songs they had been working on recently.  Some highlights of the night included the plaintive "Be Sweet to Me" and "Half-Hearted Apology," as well as the rollicking "L.A." and one of my personal favorites "2 Days to Decide," which Dean introduced by instructing the audience to "tap both feet and snap one hand to this one."  He also threw in a surprisingly fitting cover of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs' "Maps," as well as his trademark sing along "Irish Bars" in which the audience provided the stirring background vocals.  Were it not for the impending arrival of an improv group scheduled to perform later that evening, I got the feeling that Dean would have had no problem treating the crowd to as much of him as they wanted.  Luckily for us he is home now, and we can look forward to many more hometown performances, although we will have to wait until next year.  I caught up with Dean at Capital Ale House before his final hometown show of 2009.

 

M33: So last night you guys opened for Blues Traveler.  How did that go?  Any high speed car chases?

Dean: (laughs) No, but we had a great time.  It was a sold out show in Falls Church and John Popper mentioned several times while onstage that we were "fuckin' awesome" which is always really nice.  They are all really good guys and they allowed us to bring along the full band, which has not always been the case with other opening gigs.

M33: Why the move back to Richmond?

Dean: My band is living here.  I got tired of feeling no sense of home and family while being on the road so much.  It just felt like home.  The guys I felt most comfortable playing with were all here.  It was always in the back of my mind to move back here but it was never just the right time to do it.  Plus, I met my fiancé here a few weeks before the move so I knew I wasn't leaving.

M33: How was your experience living in musical hubs like Nashville and Boston?

Dean: I got more out of those cities by being an outsider and gig-swapping.  It served its purpose to immerse myself in those scenes and make connections at that point in my career, but in order to really further my career I had to get to a place that felt like home.  My parents moved to Nashville so that became my second home.  There was always this weird thing where I would rather hang out with my family than get things done musically in that city. 

M33: I know you've spent an extensive amount of time on the road.  Did the road become your home more than home was?  How do you keep a level head while traveling that much?

Dean: Over the past three years, I played between 200 and 250 shows per year.  One thing I always bring is a pillow and blanket from home.  I also don't know how people did it before cell phones.  It was important for me to keep the people in my life who grounded me close so that I don't forget why I'm doing this stuff in the first place.

M33: I read in another interview that your influences are "(in order) Jim Croce, Smashing Pumpkins, Lucinda Williams, and Joe Henry."  I definitely get the Jim Croce, and I see a lot of Lucinda's influence in your lyrics.  Care to comment on the others?

Dean: When I say "in order," I mean chronologically.  So yeah, Jim was first.  I got into the Smashing Pumpkins early and still listen to a lot of that type of music now.  I even made an aerobics routine to a Pumpkins song for a class in high school.  As for Lucinda, I always try very hard to rip her off. 

M33:  Do you see yourself going in a noir-ish folk a la Joe Henry direction in any of your future recordings? 

Dean: I mean, I would love to.  Joe Henry is a badass.  No matter what else is going on or what he is doing, I just always come back to him. 

M33: You studied music composition at William and Mary.  I've heard opposing viewpoints of musical study - some say it is essential while others condemn it as limiting and constrictive.  How has your background influenced your musical production?

Dean: I think it's great because it allows me to speak the language with anyone I play or write with.  Even if the music sucks, at least it's smart.

M33:  How did you go about reworking the Mend songs for the new album?  Was it a collaborative or vision specific effort?

Dean: I was kind of pushed into recording Songs on the Mend, and while I love that record, I wanted them to be band songs.  Trey Pollard (guitar, pedal steel) produced half the new record.  He's definitely my musical counterpart and creative filter in the band.

M33: How long have you been playing with these guys?

Dean: Wells is the newest member and is a really talented songwriter on his own.  Cameron has been in and out for about the last year or so.  Curtis Fye is the other bass player, and he and I went to high school together so he and Cameron swap out from time to time.  Trey has been playing with me for almost four years. 

M33: I wanted to ask you about some of your lyrics.  In "Anymore" you state, "And six long months will separate until I don't love you anymore."  Having gone through a similar situation, I've heard on several occasions that six months is the magic number for getting over someone.  Would you agree?

Dean: It's funny, I've heard that a lot, too.  Because of that first record people consider break-ups to be "my thing," but it's just very relatable because everyone's gone through it.  I wasn't trying to wallow; I just wanted to tell it like it is.

M33: In "Charleston" you sing, "Everything forgotten will one day remind.  I'll be the warden and she'll do the time."  I find it interesting that you compare the break-up to prison and not the relationship.  What brought that on?

Dean: I was just thinking that in my situation, I was forced to deal with it right then.  One day the other person will have to come around and face up to it and realize what they missed.

M33: Finally, in "Now You're Nearly Gone" you open with the line "I'm writing all these songs about you so that in time I'll write you away."  Your songs have a very medicinal quality in that sense.  Is music an aspect of your survival and well-being at this point?

Dean: You know, I don't really know that kid anymore that wrote those songs originally.  I just remember wanting to be done with that chapter, but the song has been around so long that there are so many versions, and I was changing lyrics all the time.  I was in a different place and a different person by the time that song was actually finished.  

M33: Is there anything particularly special about playing a hometown show in Richmond?

Dean: I love the scene because it's very inbred.  Everyone's involved with everyone else and it's always revolving.

M33: What are some of the challenges of being a local/independent artist in today's musical climate?  Do you have any advice for other local artists with hopes of "making it"?

Dean: Well, recently the industry has collapsed on itself.  It's a double-edged sword because it leveled the playing field.  Anyone can do it so the market is flooded with artists, but I think the good still rises to the top.  As for other artists, I would just say do it completely and be the absolute best at what you are, because everyone knows if you are half-assing, especially now.  There is sometimes a misconception of laziness for independent artists, but I did everything on my own - booking shows, putting up posters, making sure I was everywhere, managing the email list.  All of the early festival gigs just came from me knocking on doors.  I basically did all of the work of an agent and a manager on my own.   

M33: What are your plans for the future?

Dean: I'm currently re-evaluating where I'm at.  I would like to do a series of EPs to just put everything that I'm writing out there.  I want to do less of playing as much as I can everywhere, and more solid, legitimate shows within the general area.  I want people to remember we are from here.  I want it drilled in their faces that we are living down the street.  At the same time, we'll play wherever there's good food.                     

 

By Editing Department, Editor-In-Chief and Author: Andrew Lutwin

Andrew is originally from Boston, but has spent equal time in Richmond and considers both home.  He recently graduated VCU with a B.A. in English and looks forward to seeing if his degree will be worth a damn.  While attending Northeastern University, Andrew began covering music for the Zig-Zag Live website and tour campaign, which won him the undying affection of Bostonians because of his access to free rolling papers.  He is fortunate enough to have parents with great taste in music and owes much of his musical sensibilities to them.  Some of his favorites include the Beatles, the Clash, My Morning Jacket, Mastodon, Mission of Burma, all 70's R&B, and anything that can be considered "outlaw."  Other hobbies include food, guitar, whiskey, hiking, Boston sports, and maintaining his beginner-level fish tank.     

 

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