INTERVIEW: al Riggs
Country (and its depressed estranged sibling, Americana) have seen fresh infusions of queer energy over the last few years. al Riggs is but one significant example. Fresh off the release of their newest record – I Got a Big Electric Fan To Keep Me Cool At Night – the Durham songwriter is slowly, but surely, building a name as a beacon of queer expression in genres as hetero- and cis-normative as country.
I’ve written about their music before (2020’s Bile and Bone was a standout favorite of mine for the year) but recently I finally got the chance to talk to them about a load of stuff. Check it out below!
This interview was conducted via email.
Rob Moura: Let’s get this eye-roller out of the way first, because I’m genuinely curious. Everybody’s been affected by the pandemic in different ways. Was it just business as usual for you, or do you feel quarantine affected your songwriter in any significant way?
al Riggs: Being quarantined oddly helped me spend a lot of time honing the things I knew I could improve on. A big part of the Big Electric Fan recording process was learning to perform on record better, something I’ve struggled with for years. Getting a drum kit helped with that, not relying so much on click tracks. I guess it helped me take more time with the recording overall.
RM: Over the last four years you’ve stayed pretty prolific, releasing songs and albums at a brisk pace. Are there any specific ways in which you believe you’ve grown as a songwriter since your earliest records?
aR: Yeah like I said I’ve definitely gotten better as a performer both live and on the recording. Learning what works and what doesn’t. Best part about being as prolific as some say I am- as well as releasing everything by myself- is the freedom to truly experiment with form and texture. You tell people you make “folk music or country” and they listen to it and they can either tell the influences are up front or feel like they’re being lied to when they hear something like Lavender Scare, which is all MIDI. I try to never copy myself.
RM: I’m assuming that North Carolina isn’t the easiest state for someone like you to live in, even considering (I’m also assuming) Durham’s relatively more accepting environment. Are there certain things that tie you to that area; do you take pride in where you live?
aR: It’s weird. NC has changed so much just in the past 10 years that I think people could really be mistaken for thinking it’s more of a liberal safehaven than it actually is. It’s still in the South and our government is still a mostly conservative one, despite (or maybe because of!) the liberal mayors and governors we currently have. So there’s this layer of tacit “acceptance” for non-straight white folks but it all feels like the kind of Corporate Pride we see every June. The state prides itself in being a leader for the new south but we still have dipshits in office like Thom Tillis and Madison Cawthorn who are these fucking ghouls trying to continue the legacy of people like George Wallace; monsters of the south who steamrolled hate into everything they did.
I guess to answer your question I’m very happy for the communities of weirdos we do have in this state but like many other places where the weirdos have found each other it’s our government (regardless of party) who is trying to ruin everything, either with banal passive aggressiveness and platitudes (Democrats) or just blatant evil (Republicans). We take care of our own but it’s getting tougher to be optimistic when more useless fucking apartments and condos displace working class people and houselessness continues to be an issue.
But hey thanks to Raytheon for their Pride twitter logo.
RM: One outlier on this new record, which is generally about queer domesticity, is a song about the flash-in-the pan era of the emo revival. Tell me about your experience with that scene: did you participate in any capacity, did you play shows with that crowd, or were you an appreciator from the sidelines?
aR: That song is a combination of a few stories of friends of mine in bands who were part of that scene. Those stories are not mine to tell but as hinted in the song they involved a lot of backstabbing and cruelty. I was only an observer and a casual listener. But I think what drew me to write about that whole scene was how it all just erupted into this major (mostly online) cultural checkpoint. You say “Emo Revival” these days and those who do know have very specific images and bands and songs immediately pop up in their heads. I wasn’t around for punk or new wave or british metal but I was around for the noodly guitars and huge choruses and legitimately great band merch. And so were a lot of us.
RM: The spaciousness and measured tempos of your songs allow each instrument (especially the guitars) to shine individually. Do you take any stock, personally, in the idea of instruments inspiring music? If so, do you have a favorite guitar or other instrument that you feel helps with the process?
aR: It’s a weird way to write but there are times where entire songs just appear from a specific GarageBand patch or (like “Emo Revival”) keyboard loop. I think embracing MIDI and the electric piano on these past few records really opened my eyes to breaking things down and rebuilding them. I got over sounding “corny” or “inauthentic” long ago when I started putting fake saxophones in my stuff. Those kinds of thoughts just stop the creative process dead in their tracks. You have to play and you must not take everything you do in the recording so seriously. People can sniff out unbearable seriousness a mile away and I think that notion is only getting truer and truer. Abandon All Preciousness.
RM: Your most recent record features a surprising number of talents from notable acts, way more so than the one previous. How did those connections come about? Did you have an idea of who you wanted on these songs, or is their presence more happenstance?
aR: I had already performed with Patrick (from Lavender Country) and James (Paisley Fields) and am friends with Anne-Claire so they were obvious choices to be on this thing. Patrick and James got their takes done perfectly and quickly and thematically it was great having these two generational pillars of Queer Country sing with me. Anne-Claire is an incredible singer and songwriter and really took the prompt of her part to a level I wasn’t even thinking of. When she sent back this additional layer of vocals that seem a little discordant with her perfect harmonies and I added them all together, augh it was perfect.
I’ve been a fan of Chuck Johnson for a long time. Balsams is one of my favorite ambient albums period and having him bring a touch of that magic to this record was a dream come true. And Dylan singing on “Emo Revival” felt perfect, having been in The World Is A Beautiful Place and being unfairly fired from the band for incredibly wronghearted reasons. I wanted him to know this song was for him and that I was in his court for the long haul.
RM: There are few voices doing what you’re doing, working in genres as demographically staid as Americana (even less in country). Is there anybody working right now that you look to as an inspiration?
aR: Gotta give it up to the originals, Lavender Country, for starting this whole thing. Paisley Fields, Hurray For The Riff Raff. Not country but I really look up to folks like Vile Creature, Ryley Walker, Moor Mother, Sadie Dupuis. People who have been staunchly independent in their thoughts and executions, making the best art of their lives. They’re on another level, truly.
RM: Speaking of influence: you’ve mentioned before that John Prine is a personal hero of yours, and that his death affected you greatly. The closing track on Electric Fan purportedly borrows from Prine. Tell me about your relationship with his work: what did you see in him and his music that feeds into your own output?
aR: John was one of the early introducers to country I found. Not sure if his stuff is considered capital C Country all that much but it opened my eyes to another way to write and engage with songwriting et al. He was one of the most empathetic songwriters who ever lived, he’s still my favorite, number one with a bullet. Was absolutely shattered when he died.
RM: Where do you see your music taking you? Are you comfortable where you are now, or do you have higher aspirations? What – if anything – do you want people to take away from your work?
aR: Honestly the goal is to just get as many people as possible to listen to my stuff. I know that’s a pretty unattainable goal considering how crowded things are right now, but I get a little better every year. I’m trying to focus on the fans I do have first and foremost rather than this phantom Final Amount Of Fans that will never be enough. At the end of it all I just want to continue to evolve my craft and try not to repeat myself too much. And if folks like what I do I consider that to be the bonus of a lifetime.
You can check out al Riggs’ sprawling discography on their Bandcamp page.
Lives in Seattle, terrible diet, loves music, has hope for people