Lady Gaga's meat dress. Justin Bieber's crotch-grabbing. The twerking of Miley Cyrus.
Something happened to the music scene in the late-Aughts, and since then, popular music has devolved into a who's whom of meaningless lyrics, auto-tuned voices and truly lame beats.
Audiences have become more engaged with the over-the-top antics of celebrities--rather than the works they are creating--occasionally causing true artists to slip through the cracks.
This is the only reason I can think of that Judith Owen isn't more of a household name. And there's something terribly depressing about that.
While it would be easy to compare Owen to the number of powerful singer-songwriters that emerged during the 1970s, that wouldn't really give her the credit she is due.
With a powerful voice and thoughtful lyrics, it's no wonder why the British-born artist is often compared to Joni Mitchell.
Of course, Judith Owen is more than any one allusion.
She's a distinct entity all her own, one whose music delves into the complexity of pain and loss, transforming both into something simple: hope.
And while a number of artists tackle similar subjects, Owen stands out because she's more honest that most.
Classicalite recently exchanged emails with Mrs. Owen, where we discussed the musical language of Wales, dealing with tragedy and, of course, a naked Homer Simpson.
Classicalite: Your bio says that you grew up in Wales. I was wondering what Welsh artists influence you, both the artists of your youth and the artists of today?
Judith Owen: Actually, I wasn't born in Wales. I was born and brought up in London, yet I've always considered myself to be Welsh! My mum and dad had moved from Wales to London, so that he could pursue his operatic career. Eventually, he joined the chorus at the Royal Opera House Covent Garden, and then I came along. I think their home sickness rubbed off on my sister and me.
We couldn't wait to go "home" every summer, and see all our music-mad family. Those were my happiest childhood memories, hearing them all speak Welsh, which to me was so musical. Our home was filled with music...classical, jazz and melancholic Welsh folk songs. And I think I'm all those things as a writer. I do think that the greatest music is the kind that can reduce you to tears. Just a couple of bars of "Myfanwy," and I'm gone.
C: Congrats on the new album, Ebb & Flow--specifically, the track "I've Never Been to Texas." Can you say a few words about where that song comes from, as well as the music video you're premiering here on Classicalite?
JO: "I've Never Been to Texas" is about love-sickness, a half-song, half-dreamscape. I was living in London, a young broke musician and fell in love with a bloke from Texas. He told me stories about his home and it sounded like a magical, romantic place, all shimmering roads through cactus-filled deserts, slow moving armadillos and blue-eyed cowboys. I'd never been out of the U.K., so I had no idea what the real Texas looked like. So, when I finally got to drive across it in mid-winter, I realized just how pink my rose-tinted glasses had been.
I wanted to make a video that really captured the dream-like quality of the song and the bitter-sweet memories of a love lost, but not forgotten. Luckily, a friend of mine owns one of the greatest Queen Anne houses in L.A. and kindly let me use it for the shoot.
It has a really British feel to it, all faded glory, sweeping staircases and light streaming through stained glass windows. Nick Leopold [director] and I searched out beautiful old toys, turquoise jewelry and vintage postcards, as emotional treasure, hidden in a Texan hat box.
One of my favorite scenes is of me and my bass player, the legend Leland Sklar, playing chess. He's just the greatest, most unique-looking person, and it was so wonderful to include at least one of my amazing band members in the video.
C: Two of the tracks on Ebb & Flow are dedicated to your parents. Your mother tragically died when you were 15 and your father, who was an opera singer, just passed. You say that those songs are "totally honest about the reality of loss." My question is this: How have you always been able to transfer these deeply saddening moments into such meaningful works of art?
JO: I don't know quite how it happens, I'm just really glad it does. Since I was a child, I've been able to sit at the piano and pour my heart into the music. When my mum died, we didn't speak about it. In fact, the only way to "get through" was to suppress our feelings. So, being at the piano was the only way I could feel and express what I was going through. It's been that way ever since. It's been the best form of self-medication all these years and the portal to my songwriting.
C: You and your husband Harry Shearer run a record label, Courgette Records, together. Do you two, as business partners, have any exciting upcoming projects that you want to tell us about?
JO: I know Harry has another comedy album in mind (he already has two Grammy-nominated ones under his belt). I'm already writing for the next one. I loved recording Ebb & Flow so much. It's been remarkable working with Lee, Waddy Wachtel and Russ Kunkel. Luckily, they're just as excited as me to get back in the studio for the follow up record!
C: You've also appeared on The Simpsons. For someone like me who grew up with The Simpsons being a staple, can you tell us a little about that process. How does recording voice-over work differ from studio music?
JO: Well, one of the Simpsons producers became a big fan and at one point told me how he was going to write me into a script. I thought "that's nice" but thought he was just being nice but a bit "Hollywood."
A couple of years later, I get a phone call from Korea, asking me to send a head shot. I didn't speak, so there wasn't any voice-over involved. I was singing one of my own songs in a Springfield night club...it was fantastic really.
I had a huge nose, mouth and blue eyes and Matt Groening made me a special animation cell, with a nude Homer lying on top of the piano a.k.a. The Fabulous Baker Boys. Believe me, it was a career highlight!
C: Last question: Is there anything else you would like to share about the album?
JO: Just that it's a love letter to the American Troubadour music of the '70s (James Taylor, Carole King, Joni, easy Elton), which so influenced me growing up. My dad's death just reminded me that life's not a rehearsal, and that I should do something really special in his honor, so I decided to be brave and ask the very same musicians who played on just about all my favorite records of that time, if they'd work with me.
In addition, I asked Brit wildlife photographer Sue Flood (Planet Earth, Blue Planet) to photograph me for the cover...and then drew them in oil pastels myself, to achieve that '70s artistic vibe. In keeping with the whole "old school" theme, we recorded at a legendary Hollywood studio, Sunset Sound, live and in the same room, in one or two takes only. Even mastering was done by the incredible Bernie Grundman, who again did almost every L.A. record at that time.
So, in a way, I did finally realize my dream. All the way from a rainy London to a sun-drenched Laurel Canyon.
