Richard Thompson Dives Deeply Into Troubled Waters

By John Roos

Few men walk on a wire with the aplomb of Richard Thompson.

Based on his such nefarious song titles as “Cold Kisses,” “She Twists the Knife Again” and “Razor Dance,” one can rightly suspect that the esteemed British-born singer-songwriter-guitarist has a lot to say about surviving relationship woes and their deep emotional scars.

Thompson is also no stranger to the pain bred from family tensions in his new, semi-autobiographical “13 Rivers” (New West Records), a solid collection of songs that Thompson carefully sequenced—much like the ‘concept’ album of yesteryear--following a stressful period in his life. In fact, the protagonist in one of these songs titled “The Storm Won’t Come” is longing for a storm to blow these sad old buildings down/fire to burn what fire may/rain to wash it all away.”

When reached by phone last week, Thompson was in better spirits as he prepares for his U.S. tour billed as the Richard Thompson Electric Trio (featuring bassist Taras Prodaniuk and drummer Michael Jerome) that kicks off Monday night at the Belly Up Tavern in Solana Beach. While not getting into the specifics of the unsettling personal events that form the foundation of “13 Rivers,” Thompson did share its cathartic value in turning this turmoil into art.

“It was a bit of a traumatic time for me and my family over the past few years,” he said, “and I can’t really talk about the nature of it because it’s private stuff. I didn’t really think I was gonna write these particular songs—they just appeared out of my sub-conscious rather than conscious mind. When you’re seeking change, it can be a really tough transition if you force it and it doesn’t happen naturally. But when it does, and you come out on the other side, it’s such a good thing.”

Born in the London suburb of Notting Hill Gate, Thompson began his professional career in 1968 at age 18 in the British folk-rock band Fairport Convention. He left the group in 1971, and following the 1972 release of his uneventful solo debut, “Henry the Human Fly,” he formed the Richard & Linda Thompson Duo with his then-wife Linda. The pair recorded together until their final and best release from 1982, “Shoot Out the Lights.” The album’s supporting tour —an almost-too-public experience dubbed “The Tour from Hell” by fans—was sadly pungent with marital strife and the couple separated soon thereafter.

Thompson’s solo career took off in earnest with the release of the promising “Hand of Kindness” in 1983. He has been recording and touring regularly under his own name ever since as both a solo acoustic act and part of electric-powered bands. Equally as impressive as Thompson’s songwriting is his astonishing guitar playing, where he freely roams from achingly beautiful moods (“Beeswing,” “1952 Vincent Black Lightning,” "Waltzing's for Dreamers") to more explosive displays of sheer rock `n' roll power [“Crawl Back (Under My Stone),” “Stony Ground,” "All Buttoned Up."] (For a live rendition of the Celtic-flavored “Beeswing,” go to https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kdrG4tZf4uw)

Does the beret-clad Thompson prefer plugging in or playing disconnected?

“They really are different instruments,” he suggests. “I love the stillness in the audience when I’m playing solo acoustic guitar and singing, where it’s more about pulling the audience into you. When you play the electric, it’s really the opposite, where you’re inserting yourself into the audience and getting lost in the music . . . playing the guitar with more feeling and intensity. I enjoy both immensely.”

Turning to the business front, one matter that Thompson is not happy about is how digital streaming services are basically ripping off the very musicians who create the songs (MP3`s). According to www.Investinganswers.com, for every digital album sold on ITunes for $9.98, the artist receives only 94 cents, which is less than a 10 percent cut. The rest goes to the record label ($5.35) and Apple ($3.70). Similarly, according to a UC Irvine media study, it would take about 4 million Spotify streams over the course of a month for a songwriter to make per hour the minimum wage in California.

“Today’s technology is a double-edged sword,” Thompson said, “because Pandora, Spotify and the like may bring more exposure to a musician’s songs, which can translate into more people coming to shows. But it doesn’t help sell CDs and streaming services pay us an absolute pittance, which is unfair and has to change. I’m hoping that some legislation will come along to help musicians make a living. I’m doing all right but many musicians are struggling, they’re living hand-to-mouth.” (Note: In January of last year, the Copyright Royalty Board (CRB) ruled to increase songwriter rates for interactive streaming by 43.8 percent over the next five years, which was finally a small step in the right direction.)

Thompson, now 69 and residing in New Jersey with his second wife, Nancy Covey, has recorded over 150 songs so it’s a bit of a process to decide which ones make it onto his nightly set-list. Each selection has to resonate with his life at that moment or he eliminates it from consideration.

“There are a lot of songs to re-visit and choose from, for sure,” he said with a chuckle. “One song I still love playing that stands out is `Wall of Death' because it’s lyrically a memo to myself to take more risks, and I find that as relevant now as when I wrote it (back in the early-1980’s.) On the other hand, I have a song called `Love in a Faithless Country’ (from 2002’s “Across a Crowded Room”) that’s about a couple of serial killers and it’s just too dark to sing now, it makes me uncomfortable because it’s too close to real life and I don’t want to go to that place on a regular basis.”

Much like his compatriots Elvis Costello and Graham Parker, there’s no denying that Thompson can trade acerbic barbs with the best of them. His fondness for richly-drawn characters facing bleak or troubled times is also quite legendary. That said, Thompson’s sharp wit and well-timed humor often add lightness to the heavy subject matter. In fact, there is one song on “13 Rivers” about “wanting to make cupcakes with you” that can earnestly be described as a tender love song.

“It’s an affectionate, playful song,” says Thompson about the new track “O Cinderella.” “The put-downs in the song are meant tongue-in-cheek and the overdrawn language used is to be a little more dramatic. It is a lighter song but I think it still works within the overall framework of the album.”

Even though Thompson does generally lean towards gloomy themes and moods when putting his pen to paper, he finds the state of unhappiness being only temporary.

“Happiness and feeling blue are both impermanent conditions, and we all move between the two very quickly, really,” he suggests. “You have to reflect that in your songwriting. What does `happily ever after’ really mean? It still means the occasional fights, that’s just part of the human experience so sometimes songs are more complicated than your average, snappy, 3-minute pop song.”

Thompson’s wordplay is often abstract enough by design to allow individual interpretation by his listeners.

“It’s a good thing to balance humor and the darker stuff,” he said, “and I like when sometimes it’s not really clear what kind of song it is. Am I being funny or sarcastic or serious? Or a mix of all three? The audience gets thrown off-kilter and you can hook them when you do that. It is a technique that I developed consciously over the years and it has become a useful tool, indeed.”

*The Richard Thompson Trio with opening act Ryley Walker perform Monday at the Belly Up Tavern, 143 S. Cedros Ave, Solana Beach, (858) 481-8140. 7:30 p.m. $35-$95. 21+. www.bellyup.com.