Calexico – Come together
For a year, Convertino was at loose ends. “I tried busing dishes and then I wound up being a balloon delivery guy,” he recalls. When Howe Gelb moved into his apartment building, Convertino was happy to offer his services. He laughs as he tells the story.
“We got together and we’d have these kind of rehearsals, and they were not like any rehearsals I’ve ever had before. We’d run through these songs and we’d never really figure out a beginning or an end. There would be times when I would be laughing so hard behind the drums. And then he was calling me up to meet him at the studio, and before I knew it we had a record together. It was called The Love Songs. There’s some pretty major drum mistakes in there, but he kept saying, ‘Oh I love those.’ I just didn’t get that. But I’ve really learned to appreciate that kind of spontaneity.”
When Gelb and Giant Sand bassist Paula Brown divorced, and keyboardist Chris Cacavas departed to launch a solo career, Convertino and Gelb began playing as a duo. Gelb liked the jazzier sound but wanted to add an acoustic bass. Convertino asked around and a friend gave him Joey Burns’ number, which he passed along to Gelb. Of the resulting audition, Convertino says, “I think he only played a couple of songs with us and he got the gig.” Burns was fresh out of college.
Much moving about ensued until all three players wound up living on the same block in Tucson, hosting a parade of visiting musicians. Gelb’s “let it be” spontaneity and the porous nature of Giant Sand encouraged exploration, collaboration and growth, principles that Convertino and Burns took to heart. Side projects bloomed everywhere and, in Schumacher’s words, “They became the rhythm section du jour.”
They joined with Bill Elm in Friends Of Dean Martinez, and when that relationship soured, they launched Calexico as a duo, first acting as openers for Giant Sand, then releasing Spoke. Before long, Convertino and Burns’ side projects began to dominate their time.
From that point, the Calexico story largely turns on Burns’ growth as an artist. In a 1997 interview, Burns told Fred Mills, “You know, I used to be so nervous when Howe wanted me to do some of my songs…but everything is changing and growing.”
Now, Foster says, “He’s really discovered his range. I think live he’s gotten to be quite a good singer, and he’s become a much more confident frontman for the band. I think that everything he’s learned from the people he’s worked with, he takes with him and he absorbs and kind of turns it on its ear. That’s one thing Joey’s really good at: He’s a student first and foremost.”
Convertino concurs. “I never really believed that Joey was a singer-songwriter. I believed that he was an instrumentalist, a great musician, arranger, melody man. He could learn people’s songs and remember them long after they had already forgotten. But he never really saw that within himself, and I think he’s gotten to that place where he can translate what he’s feeling into words, and really sing it and believe it.
“It’s true that he learned a lot from Howe, and he learned a lot from Rainer [Ptacek, the late Tucson guitar genius], and he learned a lot from me, and he learned a lot from his brothers and his sisters. He learned a lot from his own stuff, from college — he’s an individual. He draws from everything. He draws from his life. He’s an artist and musician. And…he progressed. He allowed himself to progress. And he enjoyed the progression. I think he’s done a great job, and I think he continues to grow.”
For all his hard-earned poise, songwriting skills, vocal range and leadership, Burns retains the soul of a sideman. He regularly sits in with Tucson bands and thrives on playing with musicians he meets on the road. “Sometimes people just drop by someplace and say, ‘Hey, you want to do it?'” he relates. “I just enjoy the interaction in the sound itself and the songs, and also getting the chance to work with people. You might meet some musicians and you really want to connect and you know that when you go home it’s going to be difficult to get back to that place again, wherever that may be: New York City or Brooklyn or Barcelona, New Zealand, wherever. So the music acts as a great bridge. You can plan a show or you can follow through to do some recordings and just get back there.”
So what’s the next quest? “I was just thinking about making two different records,” Burns says. “Maybe just a minimal two-piece record, and then I was thinking about making a full-on record with mariachis doing all original songs, but make it a fucked-up production.
“There’s no real plan that’s laid out, ‘This is where we want to go.’ It’s more, ‘This feels good. Let’s just follow this feeling with the music or playing shows or collaborations.'”
Says Foster, “If [Garden Ruin] expands their fan base to new fans, I think those fans had better expect a curveball next time out, too. I don’t think they’ve finished growing. You stop being an artist when you finish growing.”
ND contributing editor Linda Ray, inspired by Calexico’s daring, tried an entirely new approach to writing this story: She started with an outline. Alas, it didn’t work past the first paragraph. She remains grateful, however, for the inspiration to buy herself a Bisbee Blue turquoise ring.