Hope, reconciliation, struggle, travel, tireless searching, the music of Mimi Gilbert covers a lot of ground, digging deep where water hides just beneath the surface of things. Songs that act as a catalyst of transformation come into the world rarely enough, when they do emerge, their resonance, a sound so deep, full, and reverberating, can alter us in unmeasurable ways. The rewards of what we do, as artists, as human beings, can all too often be fleeting and ephemeral, like water rushing through our hands. But if you are creating despite all of that, then it is probably something else, something deeper that you're after. Gilbert's album, Strangers Won't Exist, is a testament to that act of laboring over the impossible, voicing the unexpected, and emerging with those diamonds in the rough that are life's greatest, most hard fought for truths. AHC: What has this journey, this life in music been like for you, the highs and the lows, and what life lessons do you feel you've picked up along the way? Mimi: I never quite intended to be a full time musician. I hated (I emphasize that terrible word hated) singing in front of people until I was about 16. It makes me laugh now. I would get so angry at anyone, my family members, if they happened to stumble into my room when I was quietly singing at my desk. I was so emotionally guarded. The journey of music has taught me to be open, to give love and to receive love… as exaggerated as that may sound. I started street performing at 15 because I loved the ambiguity of the street and its people. Street performing is the reason I can play music for a living today. It has taught me to be strong, to choose to be humble or be humiliated, to not care what others think. It taught me how important it is to give love to everyone equally: strangers, rich, poor, homeless. Now that I am street performing a lot less and performing more in venues and on more official small-time tours, I am learning about the business of it all, which if course has its good and bad stabs. At the end of the day, one of the biggest lessons I can take away from the highs and lows of a life in music is this: stay humble, love people and treat everyone the same. Maybe more importantly, for the longevity of staying in music as work, is to do it because you love it, and not because it pays the bills or gives you a name. A lot of days, if wont give you either of this things. Something I love (and often actually despise) about the ‘profession’ of music is that in this job, one doesn’t leave his or her personal life at the door when they come to work. One must invite it all in and be ready to expose the good the bad and the ugly.. at least with the kinds of music I like to write. I am thankful for music, it keeps pulling my arms wide open, when i’m often tempted to put up my guard. AHC: What first drew you to music and what was your early musical environment like growing up? Were there pivotal songs for you then that just floored you the moment you heard them? Mimi: The first time I was absolutely caught by the love of music was at a Les Misérables production at the Pantages Theater in Los Angeles when I was 5 years old. My mom, Heidi, (I am so grateful for my parents) was a dancer in New York before she had us babies. She always invested her love for performing arts into us and spent her cash taking us to occasional musical theater productions. I remember seeing little Cosette (a small orphan girl in the opera) sing on stage. That small and quiet tomboy 5 year old me was so moved. I felt like I was her, like she was me. I remember during intermission, my brother and I snuck down to look into the orchestra pit. The sound of everyone tuning their instruments and fiddling with their cellos and clarinets, ahh it might be one of my earliest memories. Something similar to falling in love. My mom tells a story of me later that night (I have no memory of this). She says that later that night when we were being tucked into bed, I seemed very troubled. My mom asked me what was wrong and apparently I said “Mom… what if God wants me to sing, but I don't want to?” The things kids say. I wonder what was going through my head. I do remember that later that week, I took some of my dads clothes- big sweaters and stuff- and wore things inside out and upside down, trying to make myself look like an orphan. I snuck out of the house and went to our street corner (we lived on an orchard, alright? So maybe I had an audience of 2 or 3 passing cars), and I sang songs pretending that I was that little french orphan Cosette. Eventually, a lady driving past, parked her car, got out, and upon asking me a bunch of questions, she walked me to my front door step- totally shattering my little orphan facade. AHC: Do you remember the first song that you ever wrote? Mimi: Yes. Haha. I have no idea the contents, lyrics, or melody of this song. I was so terrified someone in my family would find the lyrics, so I went out into our orange orchard with my pencil, paper, and miniature Ovasion guitar and found a hidden place under my favorite trees and wrote this little song. It was probably about being jealous of my litter sister or something dumb. The best part is, after I wrote everything down with pencil, I hid the paper under a piece of wood. When I came back a little while later to play it again, the damp soil had entirely erased the penciled lyrics leaving me with a crinkly blank blue-line-smeared piece of school paper. I was devastated. I was probably 12 then. AHC: Who are some of your musical inspirations? Are there certain albums or songs you couldn't live without? Mimi: I grew up on Led Zeppelin, The Eagles, the Lés Miserables soundtrack, and I think that was pretty much it until I discovered indie rock and folk music in my teens. The first musical obsession or crush I had was admittedly Avril Lavigne when I was a teeny-bopper, and then Sum-41 and Blink 182. My brother, who was a drummer by this point, and I started a little bedroom band where we played a few of the easy Led Zep, Credence Clearwater Revival songs. It wasn’t until I stumbled into listening to artists and bands like Ray Lamontagne, Cat Power, Fiest, Missy Higgins, Conor Oberst and Bright Eyes that I was really left feeling heart sick and absolutely zealous for a life playing and absorbing music. My first concert (besides the county fair ones) was a Missy Higgins show in Los Angeles. I fell in love with that Australian accent in her songs, and the upright bass. The first time I heard Ray Lamontagne perform his song “Burn” live, I was so overwhelmed and paralyzed with raw emotion, I knew music would inspire me forever. I knew I would be lucky if one day, music that came out of my expression could make people feel something so real like that. A few albums I would not want to live with out are most definitely Joni Mitchel’s Blue, Ray Lamontagne’s Trouble and Gossip in the Grain, and Cat Power’s The Greatest. AHC: What do you think makes for a good song, as you're writing and composing, is there a sudden moment when you know you've found the right mix, that perfect angle of light, so to speak? Mimi: I have been writing songs for 9 years, maybe more seriously 7, but I still feel entirely novice in a lot of ways. Two things I can say I have learned, however, are this: Firstly, the moment I try too hard to write something good, or clever, or challenging, is the very moment I can no longer seem to write a song that is actually moving in any way. It starts to sound plastic. It’s a humbling cycle. Once I think I’m good enough, the knack is lost, reminding me that the best art comes from a place just outside of ourselves. Secondly, the best songs, or most compelling truths in life for that matter, are simple. The things we all relate to on the deepest levels as humans, are, I believe very universal. This goes for lyrics and melody. So, I try not to get too melodically complicated or wordy. As you can probably tell in this interview, being wordy can be a thing I do if you get me writing, so I have to keep that in check and painfully prune back words a lot. AHC: Do you consider music to be a type of healing art, the perfect vehicle through which to translate a feeling, a state of rupture, hope lost and regained? As a listener of music I have this impression, I wonder, as the artist, the creator, do you have this feeling about the transformative power of song? Does the writing and creating of the song save you in the kinds of ways that it saves us, the listener? Mimi: Oh absolutely. Music heals me. Not just as a listener, but as a songwriter and performer. It may sound egotistical, but as much as I can have perspective on my own self, I really do not think it is. There are so many times I have been playing music on the street, when no one is around, where the only answers to the deepest sorrow or troubles or joys I am encountering, are found floating in an ambiguous and moving melody that comes out of my mouth. No one chooses to have a gift, whatever gift that may be. Sure, we can be responsible to develop our craft, but it is just as much a gift to a singer to be able to sing as it is a gift to a listener to be able to listen. I grew up in a very spiritual environment. Have you ever heard of this concept within Christianity called “speaking in tongues?” Sounds weird and gross. But the concept is this: it is a language gifted to the speaker… a language he or she cannot literally understand. One might speak with this in a way that harmonizes with the very existence of Spirit herself, himself, itself and all the grumblings of the earth, the aches and screams and joys of all human beings and living things are communicated through the speaker, allowing one to be spiritually and deeply understood and received. Taking that concept, regardless of whether or not you think it is silliness, well… music has been this for me. It is way that the language-less depth of my soul (and everyone else’s i am connected with) can articulate the mysteries of life, the beauty and the anguish. I am so thankful for music and art in general for this alone. AHC: When you set out to write an album of songs, how much does 'where the world is' in its current moment, culturally, politically, otherwise, influence the kinds of stories you set out to tell? Mimi: This influences me a lot. Sometimes I have thought it plays a part too much, especially when I am just wanting to write a light fluffy happy-go-lucky song, and it ends up turning into a heavy song and cry for the oppressed instead. I am very moved by current events, ugly outbreaks in the world, seeing marginalized people be stepped on, it often finds its way into my music whether I actually try for it or not. To be completely honest, the reason I am so passionate about music and continuing to trudge through those hard penny-pinching times, is because I whole heartedly believe that music breaks down walls between people groups, brings connection, creates a tension-eased place for us to ponder important and real issues in the world. So, I see music as a medium to bring relief, bring a voice and sometimes hard questions to things happening in the world. I am constantly humbled and challenged to keep learning about how I can add a drop in the bucket of change for the better. AHC: What are your favorite on-tour, on-the-road memories? Mimi: I’ll try my best to keep this brief. This is where i could really talk on and on. My brother and I traveled from San Diego to Canada in the winter time playing music in many cities up the coast in 2010 or so. We packed his truck so full of music and camping gear, that we couldn't fit inside the truck-cab to sleep with all our stuff. So every night, unless we met some trusting person with a couch, we found some bushes to sleep behind, or some parking structure to sleep in. We shared a parking lot sleeping space with a few rough looking homeless people at fisherman's wharf in San Francisco. One night, my brother forgot his sleeping bag at a campsite (it was winter) and so he had to sleep in his surfboard softcase- it was not insulated. I have never been so amused at someones discomfort. We slept crammed up under the truck in Santa Monica (trust me, it’s hard to find an open bush or bench in santa monica- there are a lot of non-house-dwelling troubadours taking all the spots). I remember waking up under the truck and crawling out from underneath it with my dirty head of dread locks and sleepy eyes to a completely shocked fluro-nike-shoes-and-pants-to-match-hollywood jogger passing by. This last year, I went on an across the USA tour with a friends’ band The Brave Kind in the summer. We were in Kansas, or Tennessee or some hot state travelling in a big old beautiful but unreliable van with no air conditioning and sleeping in Wal-Mart parking lots. There was a reported heat wave that week. It was so hot and humid that night in the van that I had to go into wal-mart at 1am to buy a bunch of 1$ frozen pea bags to cover my body with. We couldn't sleep in the end, so we left at 2 or 3am. That night was the first time seeing Mississippi River in her beautiful dirty glory. We blasted Lissie’s “Oh Mississippi” while crossing the river on the big bridge. Then upon trying to find a small neighborhood to park and sleep in peacefully, we were followed by a suspension-lowered, spinning-rimmed white Chevy (i’m not trying to stereotype anything here, that is just what it was). We drove around trying to escape it for a long time, probably 20 minutes, but that car kept popping back up on different streets to tail gate us. We were ready to fight for our lives. Three little white girls, 3 am, middle of nowhere… guitar capo’s and mic stands as our only defenses. That car followed us for a long time before the driver pulled up next to us and taking photos of us and the van with a big iPad, then they pulled off into the night. It ended up being funny…. still don’t know what that was about. Being on the road is where I feel most myself. I have been moving a lot; from Ojai, CA where I grew up, to Australia for a few years, to New Zealand for 2 years, around the States for a while, to now being in Portland for a handful of months before moving somewhere else. So in some ways, I feel like my life is constantly on the road. I am forever changed by the many encounters with strangers who open their homes to me, letting me sleep on their couch, convincing me to take their beds while they take the couch. It’s unbelievable, the goodness in people. I think most of us are too afraid of strangers. Touring has taught me that there is a whole lot more goodness out their in peoples’ hearts than bad. AHC: Do you have any words of advice or encouragement for other musicians and singer-songwriters out there who are trying to find their voice and their way in this world? Mimi: My main advice is: there is no education to prepare you, there is no handbook. Therefor, the best place to start, is just to get out there and grab life by the cojones. A favorite quote of mine from Christopher Mccandless Alexander Supertramp is “if you want something in this life, reach out and grab it.” Practically, I would advise that when you are starting out with your music, try to say yes to most opportunities that come your way (except the obvious terrible ones). Eventually, when you get your bearings a bit more, it will be time to be more selective about where you decide to play. You deserve a place where people want to listen, not just rowdy bars. But the rowdy bars are important to build your chops. You also deserve to be paid well, but need to be ripped off a few times to learn that it cannot be about the money, and to get tough skin to not let it happen. Lastly, I would say, try to get away from this mindset so ingrained in american culture of “Making it” or “being discovered.” If you are going to your local cafe or bar to set up a small music show, you are making it, you are making music, you are experiencing art with people. If you are singing a song for one person, or even to yourself, you are being discovered right then and there. This is foundational. Music is not a ladder to climb, or a mountain top to reach and then be finished. It is a ridge-line of continuous ups and downs. Enjoy the journey. Success is found in the everyday. Remind yourself constantly to do it for the enjoyment and love of it, with a thankful heart for it even being a career possibility. I am trying to do the same. AHC: Do you have any new projects in motion you'd like to tell people about? Mimi: Yes! I released my first studio album in February of 2016. I would like to release another by around the same time (give or take a few months) of 2017. This collection of songs will be a lot different perhaps. I plan to produce and record a lot of it myself. So you can expect a lot of harmonies, triplet guitar picking. We will see. The album itself will be largely full of songs that come from a pretty personal and trying time for me. I am nervous, and I do not like to disclose too much about my personal insides, but sometimes being an honest voice is just more important than staying quiet. For more information and to purchase Strangers Won't Exist visit mimigilbert.bandcamp.com/
1 Comment
TnH
11/20/2016 04:32:25 pm
Sweet interview , words of wisdom from the raw corners of the streets ...... Nothin to it but to do it , sure glad ya love it ..... The Key ...... Here's to Middle C , and Les Miserables ...... Nothin but Love Kidd ...... Love Ojai .....
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