New York singer/ songwriter, Simone Felice (pronounced Simon), has a new solo album, ‘Strangers’, out now.
Can you take us through the recording process for this album? ‘Strangers’ was recorded in a really raw and beautiful place, the end of a deadend road at the top of a mountain in Boiceville, New York, at my friend David Baron's studio. He's an amazing organist and string arranger, and we had a lot of great friends and family stopping in to lend their gifts. We worked all of September and October, peek autumn in the Catskills [mountain range], beginning our sessions just after sunrise. I'd walk through the woods to the old house Jimi Hendrix occupied when he lived here in the late ‘60s, work out lyrics and melodies on those walks, [and] commune with the ghosts.
Did you stumble upon any challenges while recording that you didn’t expect? I have a mechanical heart valve that weird science installed four years ago to save my life, so my biggest trick is trying to find a way to silence its ticking. We've tried many woolen sweaters, even a bulletproof vest, but if you listen carefully on songs like 'The Gallows' you can still hear it ticking away.
How are you finding the change from working in a band to being a solo artist? With this album we sort of had the best of both worlds, in that we were able to produce many of the songs as a band: David on keys, Matty, Gabe, me on drums mostly, and from there we could tailor the ensemble to include different players and singers depending on what more the song asked for.
I've heard before that you wanted to be able to ‘tell your own story’ as one of the reasons for leaving The Felice Brothers; was there anything stopping you from achieving this while in the band? Every group has it's own sort of governmental/ parliamentary system. Sometimes this leads to fruitful, innovative, memorable work, and sometimes it does not. I've always been a bit of an outlier/ drifter, and every year that goes by in my life I become more aware of my innate mistrust or parameters, dogma, boxes, rules. I want to approach my task each new day with the raw wonder of a child.
You've had the chance to play with some pretty big names, including Mumford & Sons and The Lumineers; have you had a favourite venue to perform in? Levon Helm's barn. Two hundred people packed in. Snow falling outside. A roaring fire inside. Singing 'The Weight' with a hero of mine. Music to make life worthwhile.
What’s been one of the most memorable experiences that you’ve had while on tour or making the album? Pulling over the van in a parking lot in rural England and walking into the woods in the rain to write 'The Best That Money Can Buy', coming back and singing it to the boys for the first time.
How did it feel to have ‘Don’t Wake The Scarecrow’ in the Top 10 for the UK’s Daily Telegraph’s 500 Must have Tracks? Weird.
You had some pretty scary circumstances that has led you to taking a solo career, do you see yourself ever going back to the band scene? A welcome thing has happened over the past few years as a solo artist. In a very organic and unforced way, I've stumbled upon a couple of gifted comrades to help me bring the songs to life on the road, Matty Green [guitar/ dobro/ mandolin/ vocals] from Melbourne and Gabriel Dresdale [cello/ bass/ vocals] from my hometown. They have been instrumental in the studio on ‘Strangers’, and for the first time it really feels like a band, telepathic and tough.
Do you find the studio can get a bit lonely? Are things easier on your own when you have more control? When I work in the studio I surround myself with people whom I trust and admire. I open up the floor to all ideas and together we endeavour to zero in on the unnamable. It's like searching for water with a diving rod.
Do you find the poetry and stories you have written reflect the songs you write? Or do you keep these two sections of your life separate? I'd say they are separate tasks, but parallel disciplines with poetry at the heart, and from from time to time they bleed into one another.
‘Strangers’ is available now.
