Low Pining

On a recent trip through California to see a handful of Cowboy Junkies shows, I stumbled head first into a new sonic landscape. At once, it was a place of familiar echoes but new furniture. This new place was Monahans (actually just two members) who were opening up select shows along the tour. Their slow burning sound sliced into my temporal lobes and provided a soundtrack to the late night driving along empty highways.

Monahans are born from Milton Mapes, a highly regarded Austin, TX outfit who critics liken to everyone from Neil Young to Uncle Tupelo. They first caught my attention when they covered a little known Junkies song for a label compilation. The Junkies were also paying attention and Milton Mapes were soon opening shows for the indie veterans from Canada. On their first album, Low Pining, Monahans step outside the Americana honky tonk and start walking into a dark Texas night until the sun begins to peer over the empty sand hills from which they take their name. Out here the silence resonates with meaning.

Matching the punch of the new music is the honesty of the live performances. Singer Greg Vanderpool and guitarist/percussionist Roberto Sanchez weave and loop a droning pulse around each song that hint at what Sigur Ros might sound like if Iceland was a lonely truck stop floating out in West Texas. Their stage presence is refreshingly unassuming and a perfect compliment to a Cowboy Junkies set. Together, the two bands make for an incredible night of music. On the last night of the California tour, Monahans exited with a cover of the Junkies lament "Now I Know" that swirled the original into a musical tendril of heartache and hope. Is it too early to name it my live music highlight of the year? Probably not.

According to their website, the duo will be joining the Cowboy Junkies tour in Colorado next month before the entire band reassembles for shows in Texas this August. Greg was kind enough to spend a little time answering questions this week and I posted one of the album tracks to give all these words some context. So, take a listen to Monahans and then head over to i-Tunes or here to buy the rest of the mesmerizing Low Pining.

Listening Post:
Monahans - "Undiscovered"

JL: On the Milton Mapes record Westernaire, there is an instrumental track named "Monahans" that hints at the road the current album travels. Was that a point of departure for the current project when you decided to pursue the sound further? When did you realize that the new sound would be a whole new band?

GV: I think our main intention when we started recording Low Pining was to just let the music happen, instead of trying to manufacture a new Milton Mapes record. We kept telling ourselves that this didn’t have to be a release of any kind, but rather experimentation for our own amusement. The instrumental track “Monahans” was done many years before, but in a similar way, and so we referenced that recording when talking about the new stuff. It wasn’t until we were close to completing the album when we got serious about releasing it under a different name. And we still could have released it as Milton Mapes, but we wanted to keep that spirit of starting fresh and treat it as something new.

JL: With Milton Mapes, there is a lot happening in the songs while Monahans embrace silence and space within each song. Is this similar to the Texas experience with the activity in towns like Austin and Dallas being surrounded by oceans of open space and small towns that rarely change?

GV: Yeah, I think that’s exactly it. You know I love a lot of the country music people associate with Texas (Willie, Ray Wylie Hubbard, etc.) That and Tejano are really our state's signature style of folk music. But Texas, to me feels bigger than that particular brand, which is sort of what that has become. I’m still inspired by the expansiveness, and the highways and the romance of the land and sky—all those Texas cliches— I just want to explore that feeling in a different way, musically. It’s real easy around here to get tagged as another Texas balladeer, and that becomes the extent of what you do in people’s minds. But I feel ambiance and rhythms can describe that scenery just as powerfully, if not better, than words can. So one of our goals, as Monahans, is to let the negative space do most of the heavy lifting. The lyrics on Low Pining are mostly fragments, simply planted as little road signs you pass along the way.

JL: Art is almost always informed by where you're from. How has the Deep Ellum and Austin scenes influenced your work?

GV: I grew up in Dallas and was playing in a band around Deep Ellum in high school. The Deep Ellum scene was still in its infancy, so we were more likely to play in a warehouse than an actual established club/bar. Like most young bands, we wanted to be just like our influences at the time. The Police, U2, Peter Gabriel, REM... But we had a lot to learn. There was a point along the way when we started examining who were were and where we came from. We always felt like we were on the outside looking in on the music scene there, although we played at just about every club that ever came and went. I think that ignited the process of figuring out where we fit in, what Texas sounds like, and trying to express that through music. We’re still in the process of doing that I suppose.

JL: When you mentioned Cowboy Junkies' The Caution Horses on the Milton Mapes song "Lubbock" did you ever imagine a scenario where you would tour and record with a band that appears to have been a major influence on your music?

GV: I can’t even describe how cool of a thing that is. It took a little restraint at first to hang out with those guys and not launch into personal accounts of how deeply their songs and recordings have moved me and influenced me. But it’s so great to listen to them every night when we’re touring. When Jeff Bird plays the mandolin—that’s it! That’s the sound on the record that I listened to when I was 18 years old. So for them and their audience to listen to us and appreciate what we do is extremely gratifying.

JL: At a recent show in Santa Cruz, I noticed that you guys were sitting to the side of the stage watching Cowboy Junkies and you seemed as excited as the fans to be watching them. Earlier in their career, they often mentioned the impact touring with Townes Van Zandt had on how they approached live shows and life on the road. Have you gleaned any nuggets of wisdom from Junkies (who have been touring for over two decades now) in the same way?

GV: It must resemble, to some degree the feeling of getting called up to the big leagues and taking the field alongside Nolan Ryan or something. When we’ve toured with Cowboy Junkies, we’ve usually played on larger stages in nice theaters vs. the small rock clubs we play on our own tours. I think what I notice most is how they have mastered the art of presenting their music in a way that is both mysterious and intimate at the same time. They stay behind the curtain just enough to give the audience a sort of magical transcendental experience, but they also know when to let loose and improvise just enough to make it feel as if you are sitting in their living room. So they command the audience’s attention in that respect. It’s difficult to take that approach into a rock club setting, but it’s certainly something we strive for.

JL: How far along are you with the next Monahans album and where are you writing it?

GV: Well, we have been recording at a studio called Ramble Creek in Austin where we made Low Pining. Currently, we have enough material recorded to warrant an album in the traditional sense. Sometimes it feels close to finished, but then we take a step back and realize we still have a ways to go. I’d like to think we could release something this year, but we also don’t want to rush it. So far I would say the songs have a bit more structure than on Low Pining, but there is still plenty of negative space to explore.