Paleo Interview: SXSW 2010

Since he emerged in 2004 with 'Misery, Missouri,' singer-songwriter David Strackany's one-man band Paleo truly matches what indie-folk is and should be. Constantly on the move in his car, Strackany has played over 600 shows around the US and Canada, gaining critical acclaim for 'The Song Diary.'' Through this project, he wrote, recorded and uploaded a new song daily for 365 consecutive days while on tour. Spinner recently spoke with Strackany about his influences, palm trees and prepping for SXSW.

Describe your sound in your own words.

I'm a folk singer, I play acoustic guitar and I sing songs that I write.

How did your band form?

The project formed when I graduated college. I picked up a couple of jobs and wasn't satisfied doing the service industry thing. I felt empty in that capacity. I had wanted to pursue something a little more fulfilling and felt that I had things to share with the world. I thought that I might be able to make a living making music. I wasn't sure how that would happen or come about. I recorded a record in 2004 and called it 'Misery, Missouri.' I then began the process of trying to figure out how to book shows and tour. I slowly pieced together some shows in 2005. I had some breaks where people gave me a chance, and that was nice. I've been sort of at it ever since. That's where I'm at right now, still making records and still making music.

What are your musical influences?

I don't consider myself to be too influenced by music, to be perfectly honest. I gave away all of my CDs in 2004 in exchange for a tattoo. I have music that I had listened to growing up, though I do think it's more by circumstance than anything. I feel to some extent like I didn't choose my musical influences. My older brother gave me tapes to listen to, or I borrowed tapes from his collection. I liked those things because he liked them and then as I grew up, friends liked music and shared music with me, so I liked the music that they liked. Then there were things that were on the radio that I listened to. I liked those songs because the people on the radio liked them. I don't connect on a personal level to a boutique of CDs. I appreciate every person who has ever written a song or played an instrument. I think that it's all really beautiful and part of the human experience; part of humanity at large are the things that people make. I don't think of myself as someone who is trying to be anyone else other than just myself.

How did you come up with your band name?

The short story is that it means "old." It's a Greek word that means "old" and is the opposite of "neo," which means new. It reminds me that what I'm doing is old, to put it simply. People have been doing rain dances and beating on drums, humming, and singing lullabies to their children since mankind began. So I think sometimes there's a [contemporary] preoccupation with being new or the next big thing. There's also, ironically, this preoccupation with being retro or vintage or old in a parochial fashion. I think for me it's more satisfying to be connected to things that are older than culture itself. It reminds myself that participating in that practice brings a little more meaning to it.

What's your biggest vice?

My biggest vice is self-loathing and making music. We all have our own meanings for words. I guess at this stage in my life I would define a vice as something that someone hides or escapes through. So by that definition, music is a vice at this point in my life. But vices can be unscrewed, or you just sort of loosen the clamp a little bit and turn it into something useful. I'd like to do that at some point, but for now I would like to call music a vice.

What's in your festival survival kit?

I would say an open mind, a free spirit and some change for the homeless people.

What's your musical guilty pleasure?

I guess if i had to make some dorky admission, 'Jesus Christ Superstar' is brilliant, so I guess that would be my guilty pleasure, but I don't feel guilt about it.

What's the craziest thing you've seen or experienced while on tour?

I have no memory of any crazy things, I've never seen a clown walking down the street carrying a bag of severed heads, for example. I've seen kids having fun, people playing music. Some conversations with some people are weird, some are not so weird. I don't know, it all kind of blends together after a while. You can get desensitized to the pace of touring after a while, things that other people might tune into. You may become oblivious to so much because it's happening so quickly. You almost have to shield yourself a little bit from it, otherwise it's exhausting to take it all in.

I also think that I live inwardly a lot, so it's possible all sorts of crazy things happen and I don't remember. It's all pretty crazy. I mean, a palm tree is pretty crazy. If you look at a palm tree, it looks like a match with green fire coming out of it, a long match that you light a fireplace with. That's pretty crazy. Cell phones are crazy. The craziest things are the things you take for granted.

Why do you create music?

Music is just another language in a way that succeeds where words fail. I use it for that. I also use it to sort of learn about myself. On a more base level, I make music in part as a way to survive.


Ken Bachor is a contributor from Seed.com. Learn how you can contribute here.