Storyteller

Bill Morrissey, renaissance man

by Bob Gulla

In many ways, Bill Morrissey is the quintessential renaissance man. From his rural New Hampshire perch he has the luxury of being many things, from a novelist and songwriter to a guitar player, a fisherman, and a nature boy. And he, of course, likes it that way.

We like it, too, when Bill Morrissey, is artistically content. We can read his books -- the second, a thematically connected collection of short stories -- is due out shortly. We get to listen to his music; his latest release is a tribute to one of his acoustic blues idols, Mississippi John Hurt. And we can watch him play guitar and tell stories on one of his many trips around the country. Morrissey worships the fine art of the finer arts and his fans, hungry for the thoughtful sounds of contemporary folk, do the same.

Like the biggest names on the folk circuit, including Greg Brown (Morrissey's fishing buddy), John Gorka, and Cliff Eberhardt, Morrissey writes and sings with literate reflection, his stories and characters as vividly rendered and passionately delivered as those in a Raymond Carver short story. Albums like the seminal Standing Eight and the Grammy-winning Friend of Mine (done with Brown) present Morrissey as an articulate raconteur, while the new Songs of Mississippi John Hurt, his eighth album in more than 15 years, shows he ain't too bad on the guitar either.

Q: Have you been working on a new album of originals?
A: Well, yes and no. I just got a new book in to my agent at the end of last year, which took me two and a half years to do. While I was writing the book, I really didn't write music for that period. But when I let go of the book, the song dam exploded; I was writing a song or two a day for a while. They're still coming so quickly. I haven't had time to learn them, tweak the lyrics yet, or boil them down. That comes next.

Q: So you weren't doing anything new for your audience?
A: I wish I could have, but I was doing all my John Hurt stuff so that was a little different. When you get two or three songs to add to your set, it changes the whole pacing of things. Guys like Tom Waits or Randy Newman write such great songs, they can throw things in that you won't pick up until the 10th listen, things you never heard on the first eight or nine listens. Then you're like, "That sneaky son of a bitch!" I want people to catch something on the 10th listen of my records, too.

Q: What prompted your tribute to John Hurt?
A: It was something I wanted to do for a lot of years, but couldn't fit it in. I am, to this day, amazed that no one did it before me. People had covered him but no one's done an entire album. It was up to me, but I didn't want to do it like he did. What's the point of that? I wanted to keep the feeling and keep it respectful, but bring myself into it, too.

Q: When did you first encounter the music of Hurt?
A: I've known of him since the 10th grade. It was 1966 when I first heard him. I thought, "That's how I want to play guitar." I'd sit around and play those songs at home. Greg [Brown] and I would play them together after fishing for the day, just for fun.

It's amazing how many people know that old stuff, too. I did the Mountain Stage with Peter Case. We both showed up in town the night before we had to play, so we sat down and jammed a little and he knew all that stuff. We were up till 2 or 3 a.m. playing John Hurt songs. There are a lot of guys out there like that: Dave Alvin, Pete Kennedy. I think we all had the same record collections.

Q: A lot of the folk singers of today learned to play to those old blues records.
A: If you were desperate to learn how to play guitar back then or become a folk singer, you all went to the same records. That was a shared experience, in the way that all the other singers my age -- Patty Larkin, Greg Brown, Cheryl Wheeler -- got started with it, too. We all started out when there was no folk scene at all; we'd haul our asses around the country and play four sets for $35 and take whatever gigs we could.

Q: Were you ever looking for greater commercial success, or are you happy with where you're at?
A: Part of me says I stayed true to what I wanted to do. I'm not too worried about selling records. I want to make good records and if they sell that's nice. Same with my performances. You just want to put on a good show. I've got a lot of friends that sell a lot more [records] than I do, which is why I'm amazed that people still want to see me.

Q: What role does fishing play in your life?
A: Fishing is a head-clearing kind of thing. Where I go to fish, I'm alone on the stream. Sometimes I see people shoulder-to-shoulder and I think, "What's the point?" If I want that I'll go to Fenway. In the spring and summer I'll get up at 4:30 a.m. and write 'til noon, have lunch and spend the afternoon fishing. You're not thinking about songs, you're thinking about trout while the "well" refills. It's a zen thing.

Bill Morrissey is at Stone Soup at Slater Mill on Saturday, September 16. The mill is located at 67 Roosevelt Avenue in downtown Pawtucket just off Route 95 [exits 28 and 29]. Claudia Russell opens at 8 p.m. Admission is $10. Call 781-0061.