Taking the old to make something new
Aaron Lee Tasjan packs a lot of life in his song “Little Movies,” which finds a heartbroken narrator framing a story in a cinematic but not entirely reliable way.
On paper, the tune is a country weeper, with requisite heartbreak. In execution, though, the song is a big production that suggests mid-’60s Brian Wilson.
Tasjan, who plays Walter’s on Tuesday night, operates at a curious and inspired intersection of rootsy country music and grandiose pop. So it should come as no surprise that his recollections of the song’s genesis aren’t entirely in focus.
“To be honest,” Tasjan says. “I wrote that on a head full of acid. I found some from a show a long time ago. I ended up writing four songs that day, so I guess it worked. But I can’t really remember what I was thinking about.”
Tasjan achieves a delicate balance between push/pull forces on his upcoming album “Silver Tears,” out Oct. 28: ornamental pop and singersongwriter simplicity befitting a musician who says of songwriter Guy Clark, “To me, he’s the same as Elvis or the Beatles. He’s not as well known, but he made stuff you hold onto for the rest of your life.”
On the album’s cover, Tasjan’s suit speaks to the way he pulls things together. He dons a sparkling mirror-ball two-piece that appears to be the ostentatious end game of Nashville’s old rhinestone-studded threads. Look closer, though, and he points out, “It really came from nothing. I got the suit at a thrift store, and we went to Michael’s to buy the sequins and attached them with Gorilla Glue.
“That was the point. You can make something beautiful out of nothing.”
Though a fairly new name as a recording artist, Tasjan, 30, has been circulating for years due largely to his skill as a guitarist. He’s played glam rock old and new with the New York Dolls and Semi Precious Weapons, and put in hours with rootsy rock acts such as Drivin’ N’ Cryin’ and Everest.
His youth was spent in Ohio and Southern California, and he showed sufficient chops as a teen to be offered a scholarship at the storied Berklee College of Music. Not surprisingly, Tasjan chose playing over studying. After some time in Brooklyn, he settled in east Nashville, where he fit right in with a collective of square-peg musicians.
Tasjan made a solo album, “In the Blazes,” last year, which played up his writing and played down his guitar virtuosity. From there, he began work on “Silver Tears,” where the influences are affixed to his coat like craft-store sequins — but like that suit, “Silver Tears” takes the old and makes something new from it. Opener “Hard Life” offers a little tip to Harry Nilsson, and Tom Petty’s mix of California pop and Southern roots also informs several songs.
“I wanted to write enough of me into it so you know it’s real, while keeping the story open to where people could find themselves in these songs,” he says. “Those were my favorite songs as a kid. Tom Petty’s ‘Free Fallin,’ that sort of thing.”
John Prine was another musician whose path as a successful outsider shaped Tasjan’s approach. He admires Prine’s ability to add levity to thematically heavy songs.
“One day they said the future was flying cars and a ride on a rocket,” Tasjan sings on “Til the Town Goes Dark.” “Time passed and all I got was America today and a TV in my pocket.”
The structure of “Memphis Rain” brings to mind Tom T. Hall, another veteran writer who could juggle serious and funny. Tasjan’s song features a series of short but vividly described details interspersed with the titular refrain to mesmerizing and soulful effect.
“You can’t make pop music without being a little derivative,” he says. “There’s no chance you’ll come up with something entirely new, but in no way should that stifle the desire to make people feel like they’re hearing something for the first time. That’s what I was trying to do.”