Interview with Singer-Songwriter Lisa Gatewood

           Lisa Gatewood, a singer-songwriter from Milwaukee, WI, pens songs that dig deep into the human condition, asking both the big and small questions that keep us up late at night, that give us gravity. At their best moments, certain songs tug at the inner wiring of our hearts, reminding us of fences we've yet to mend, things we've forgotten to say, lives that we've put on hold or neglected to live wild and bravely. Here are "songs for the lost and found, the accidental sailors who have all but drowned." And it is the all-but-drowning which keeps our hope alive.



AHC: What has this journey in music, so far, been like for you, the highs and the lows, and what sort of life lessons do you feel you've picked up along the way?

Lisa: I’d say that the journey has really been about getting comfortable defining myself as a musician. As I was growing up, I loved to sing and I knew I was a good singer. I picked up the guitar in high school as a way to accompany myself, but I’ve never been an advanced player. I think because of that, it was easy to convince myself that I belonged in some other category - That everyone else was a musician and I was someone who just dabbled in it. I have a friend who would always laugh at me because instead of saying I was a musician, I would always qualify it by saying “a local musician” as if that somehow lessened the burden of my conscience about it. In those days I spent a lot of time worrying that people would think that I thought I was in the same league as them. I think what I learned, especially as I entered my 30’s, was that no one is in the same league. We’re all just kind of doing our own thing in the same space. There’s so much freedom in getting older - you let go of the compulsion to compare. That’s a great gift for an artist. I wish I had done it sooner.  


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?

Lisa: My dad and my Uncle Scott were both musicians as I was growing up. My dad played the blues and my uncle played postmodern torch songs, so it’s easy to cite that as an obvious influence. But I’d say that they mostly influenced me by making the idea of writing and performing music accessible. I think, for some people, the idea of being a musician equates to being a celebrity, which seems far-fetched and unattainable. In our house, I saw the reality of being a musician and that it wasn’t record contracts and tours, it was playing local clubs, scraping together money to record, songs written and rewritten at the dining room table. 

Because I was raised in a musical household, I had easy access to great music at an early age. I listened to such a diverse spectrum of artists - not only the top-40 artists of the mid-80’s, but I was also listening to Ricky Lee Jones, Randy Newman, Brian Wilson (so much Brian Wilson!), David Bowie, Bob Dylan, Otis Redding and Joni Mitchell. My earliest musical obsession was The Monkees, which started when I was about 3 years old and will end never. With the losses of Leonard Cohen, Prince and David Bowie this year, Mike Nesmith recently earned a spot on my list of “Five Men Over 50 I’d Like to Slow Dance With”, though I’m starting to worry that list might be cursed. 

It’s hard to pinpoint a single pivotal song, because there were so many of them. Several songs on Joni Mitchell’s Blue album made me want to write music. The song “I Just Wasn’t Made for these Times” from Pet Sounds (The Beach Boys) spoke to me on a deep level at a young age because I always felt weird and different and at the time I was too young to know that everyone did. 


AHC: Do you remember the first song that you ever wrote? Or that first moment when you picked up a pen and realized that you could create whole worlds just by putting it to paper?

Lisa: My first songs were dripping with adolescent angst and not worth noting, in my opinion. I think when I started performing in my early 20’s the reaction from the listeners was my first indication that I had something worth sharing. I loved talking to people after shows and hearing how certain songs moved them in very personal ways. It was also a great reminder that the human condition is universal.  


AHC: Which musicians have you learned the most from? Or writers, artists, filmmakers etc?

Lisa: Although my influences reach far and wide, spanning genres and mediums, I’ve learned the most from musicians I knew personally, who blazed the trail before me and continue to surpass me in every imaginable way: My uncle, Scott Gatewood, first and foremost, because we have the same genetics and I feel like our message is the same at its core. Ben Cervenka, a former collaborator of mine that we lost too soon, who wrote the most interesting lyrics I’ve ever heard and challenged me to reach a little further with my words. I still listen to his music regularly and you can hear a duet of ours called “Questions” on my new album. Martin Jack Rosenblum (“The Holy Ranger”), Heidi Spencer, Christopher Porterfield, Tom Brosseau and countless other musicians that I’ve had the pleasure of sharing a stage or a conversation with.


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?

Lisa: Honesty. 


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? Does the writing and creating of the song save you in the kinds of ways that it saves us, the listener?

Lisa: Anyone who has ever made a mixtape for someone they will never give it to knows that the answer to the first question is yes. Songs can help us put into words feelings that we could never begin to articulate and that is a necessary catharsis. And writing it can be necessary catharsis too. There are things we have to get out of us, both as writers and as listeners. Listening to and writing music is like therapy, but cheaper. 


AHC: What are your fondest musical memories? In your house? In your neighborhood or town? On-tour, on-the-road?

Lisa: Everything... everything. But I’ll name just a couple of the absolute fondest:

• In 2007, I released my first album “I’ve Read Salinger” and I booked a CD release show at Linneman’s Riverwest Inn in Milwaukee. I had a few opening acts and when my band and I finally hit the stage around 11:00, I looked out this incredibly packed room and I said to the audience “Wow! Thank you so much for sticking around”. Matt Hendricks, who was playing guitar with us that night, turned to me and said, “Sticking around? They came to see you!” and I’ll never forget the feeling of that moment.

• Any time my music had a place in an incredible project like Brent Gohde’s “Sexy Results: Cedar Block’s Dig for the Higgs” or Emmett Jack Lundberg’s gorgeous webseries “BROTHERS”.

AHC: With the traditional ways that we listen to music rapidly changing, does it affect how you write and put together an album? Too often people are downloading and engaging with singular songs rather than albums as on ordered and thematic canvas, do you regret that your work may not be received in the way it was intended or created?

Lisa: I don’t get hung up on stuff like that. Whether I get a notification that someone bought my whole album or someone bought a single track, my reaction is the same - which is to parade around my house and casually refer to how famous I am. Maybe if I was Beyonce and I was writing awesome concept albums like Lemonade, I’d feel sad if people were just downloading one or two songs, but I guess I don’t feel like my music requires that kind of context (not that Beyonce does require context, she requires nothing but our devotion - all hail Queen Bey). 

For me, writing music has never been about the listener. Even if no one listened to my music, I would still write because I have to. Don’t get me wrong, I love that people listen and like it - I wish more people would listen so I could be Beyonce too. But albums are like pies. Are you going to say a pie is not delicious just because you only ate one slice? No, that would be crazy. Enjoy your pie however you want. And maybe after you eat one piece, you’ll be thinking about the pie later and go back for seconds. Or maybe you’ll say to a friend, “I had this amazing piece of pie that I can’t stop thinking about” and then your friend will go get a slice of pie too. I just make the pies, I can’t tell you how to eat them. 


AHC: Do you have any words of advice for other musicians and singer-songwriters or anyone who is struggling to create something of value out there, who are just starting out and trying to find their voice and their way in this world? What are the kinds of things that you tell yourself when you begin to have doubts or are struggling with the creative process?

Lisa: I once went to hear an author speak to a creative writing class at my University. A student asked him “How do I know if what I’m writing is any good?” and he answered “The fact that you worry about that means it probably is. People with no talent never seem to worry about that sort of thing”. My advice is this, you will always worry that what you are creating lacks innovation and value. You will always worry that someone else is doing it first or better. But I assure you, that feeling you get when a small grain of an idea is tugging at your sleeve, begging you to acknowledge it, is something we have all felt. You owe it to yourself to explore and create. Don’t worry if anyone else will listen to it or “get it”. Create because you must. 


AHC: Do you have any new projects you'd like to mention?

Lisa: I’ve got a couple of ideas that are still marinating. Stay tuned. 



Visit lisagatewood.bandcamp.com/


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