RUTHANN FRIEDMAN:
I felt guilty. You know the notes that the teacher sends home - she’s not living up to her potential. I felt bad. But I also felt it was very, very important for me to raise my children and have my attention on that. PCC: Recording again, did that give you a sense of fulfillment, of coming full circle? FRIEDMAN: I love it. It’s different now than it used to be. It used to be that somebody else paid to have you go into the studio with the best musicians, the best studio with the best sound. And do it. Because they were going to take the risk. They would spend the money on you and then, if you were big and successful, they would get all their money back plus [laughs] half of yours or whatever they took. And now, it’s every man for himself. Because of “Windy,” I didn’t have to work-work. Now that the royalties have been shrinking... fortunately, my husband still works. But the royalties have been sliding down, down, down. So it’s making it more difficult in the old age, because of the damned internet PCC: Because of the illegal downloads? FRIEDMAN: Oh, yeah. If you can get it for free, why would you want to pay for it? That’s why I love vinyl. If I could afford it, I’d get license from Warner Brothers to put “Constant Companion” out on vinyl. “Chinatown,” I’d love to have in vinyl, because people have to actually put a needle on it and listen to it. PCC: Having Van Dyke Parks on hand again to play on “Chinatown,” was that a fun get-together? FRIEDMAN: Yeah. He’s a wonderful man. I was with Peter Kaukonen and his wife. And Van Dyke came over and said, “You should record them.” He said he liked my new stuff better than he liked my old stuff. I said, “Well, that’s coincidental, because I feel the same way.” Some of my best friends are like music historians from the 60s. And they love the pop-pop, the light pop. They love the pop-pop. So they dug down in archives and found all this old-old stuff that I had done with several other producers at A&M and put it out. Some of it - uhhhh [sound of disapproval]. But some of it I think is really good. I’m trying to get them to put out a “Ruthann Friedman’s Favorite Song” collection. Because I go through all of those and pick 10. Of all the songs that they’ve put out - and I’m sure it’s 50 or 60 by now - there are probably 10 that I would stand by. PCC: So after “Constant Companion” was rereleased, then came the compilations, “A Hurried Life” and “Windy: A Ruthann Friedman Songbook.” FRIEDMAN: Yes, the first “Constant Companion” and “Hurried Life” were Water records. And there’s stuff on “Hurried Life” I like a lot better than the more pop stuff. Pat Thomas was the one who did “Hurried LIfe.” And Steve Stanley, who played in the band Now People, did “Windy: A Ruthann Friendman Songbook” and then he put out “The Complete Constant Companion Sessions,” [both on the U.K. label Now Sounds], with stuff that he says Warner Brothers had. But I know that I didn’t record them at Warner Brothers. They must have just taken everything from A&M, paid them off somehow. PCC: You say you like the material you’re writing now even better. Has the writing process evolved over the years? FRIEDMAN: No, it’s harder. Much harder... because I care a lot more. I went back to college and I studied literature and poetry for several years. And it’s very hard for me to write something that I don’t scribble out or tear up right away. Everything to you is trite. So you have to twist it until it’s not trite anymore. It’s the idea, the thought that you want to get across... or the picture that you want to paint. But you have to do it, so it’s thoughtful. And I wasn’t thoughtful about it in the past, so much as it just sort of came out. And rarely, but occasionally that happens now - very rarely. PCC: Do you continue to learn more about yourself and the world around you, through writing? FRIEDMAN: I don’t know. I guess sometimes. Self-examination never ends. I know now that I know less than I knew then. And I don’t have any answers. I hope, but I don’t believe. I have some life experience that I can share, if somebody asks. But otherwise, it goes into the songs. And you take it or leave it. PCC: You have said that, growing up, music provided a sort of escape. What role did it play during your childhood?
Well, the first 10 years were in the Bronx. And we had an RCA Victor, the record player that played 78s. And we used to pile them up. My father loved the opera and my sister loved classical and folk and jazz. So we were listening to music all the time, growing up. And I loved show tunes. We’d get some Broadway shows when I was very little - “Peter Pan,” oh boy! Danced around the living room to all the songs. Knew all the words to “Guys and Dolls” and “Oklahoma” and “South Pacific.” And I think, when you listen to the first song on “Chinatown,” I think that’s a show tune. Not musically, but lyrically. PCC: Did you realize early on that music was more than just fun for you, that it was vital? FRIEDMAN: Music was my escape. Music and reading. My father was half-crazy. I mean, he was a brilliant man. He was successful. He had a dress factory in New York. But you never knew what was going to come in the door. I have some new songs that talk about that, in a more abstract way. But yes, music was always my great escape. PCC: Were you also inspired by the beat poets? FRIEDMAN: Oh, I loved Kerouac. I loved Allen Ginsberg. When I first read “Howl,” I went, “Oh, my God!” And his mother lived right around the corner from us in the Bronx, I found out. So he was raised around the corner from me. PCC: So how did you end up in California? FRIEDMAN: Well, I can’t go into detail, because I made a promise to my brother that I wouldn’t tell the whole family story. But my father had a heart attack and he decided he would come west. He had another heart attack and ended up dying within five years of when we moved. I was 15, when he died. PCC: As a teen, playing hoot nights at the Troubadour, was it overwhelming? Was it magical? FRIEDMAN: Yes, I was playing at the Troubadour and blah blah blah. But the truth? The magical part of it started at The Fifth Estate coffee house in Hollywood. It was like the edge of Laurel Canyon and Sunset, that’s where it used to be. And one night I was there with my friend Steve Mann. And the owner said, “Why don’t you you guys come upstairs and have some refreshments?” And we went upstairs. and the refreshments happened to be weed from Mexico. I had never imbibed in that before. And I did. And I went, “Holy shit! This is a nice place to be. I like this.” So drugs were the great escape for quite a while. Drugs eased the pain. But, of course, so many people died, so...” PCC: Besides easing the pain and providing an escape, did the drugs expand and enhance your consciousness, creatively. FRIEDMAN: Oh, absolutely. Absolutely. You find that you can just let go, especially LSD. I’ve taken everything. Not heroin, though. But yes, absolutely. LSD is a great teacher. PCC: Being in L.A., how’d you end up going to the Haight in San Francisco, living with Jefferson Airplane?
I went up there with my friend Steve Mann. Brilliant guitarist You should look him up. He’s dead now. But he played amazing blues guitar. I was up there with him and then I had met Jorma and Jack. Steve and I were just friends, but we were renting a place together. We lost our place and I called Jack. He said, “Well, come on over, stay with us a while.” So I ended up staying with them for quite a while. And then I came back home. I kept on going back and forth. I’ve lived in the Bay Area several times. PCC: Was it in San Francisco that you met Janis Joplin? FRIEDMAN: I only met Janis a couple of times. I met Janis backstage at the Fillmore, chugging down Southern Comfort. And one night we went out. With PigPen [of the Grateful Dead] of all people. Searching for hot smokey links. And I don’t know what happened. I just know there was a careful of stoney people [laughs]. And she was a nice lady. But she was tortured. Tortured people tend to be nice people. PCC: Van Dyke Parks, how did you meet him and how did he become like a mentor? FRIEDMAN: Well, I don’t think he really came to be a mentor to me. He was more like a road guide. I met him through Steve Mann one day and we became friends. So we hung out a lot for a long time. He’s a great musician. Brilliant man - in all ways. A very generous man. And everybody wants a piece of him, so he has to be careful, because there’s only so much to go around. PCC: The whole consciousness of the 60s, was that something you found to be special at the time? And still do? FRIEDMAN: For me, it was just my life. I didn’t know any other way - the war, the protests, women’s rights, the Black Panthers. All that stuff was important culturally and socially, but people were the same. And people are the same. People behave the same way. Some people are jealous. Some people are ruthless. Some people are evil and mean. Some people are just loving and kind. Some people cheat on their wives and some people don’t. People were the same then. Except, there were social issues that were very important, that were being talked about and marched against. All the brutality was just so hideous. Seeing the Vietnam war on the television screen was earth-shattering. It changed everybody. We saw it. We had never seen it before. In the olden, olden days, they used to paint a picture of it, the hero on his white charger. But seeing body parts lying around and all the body bags - it brings it home. It became very important for us to stop that war. Just like it is important for us to stop the shit in the MIddle East. Pardon me. It’s very upsetting stuff. PCC: It’s clear from your new music that you have held onto your sociopolitical conscience. FRIEDMAN: I think everybody has. I don’t think we are doing as much about it. I think there are a lot of people who try. But I honestly have great hope. Like I said - I don’t believe. But I hope. But as far as who has the money and who is going to get more money and who’s going to get less - I have no hope, because they run the show. You have to have a worldwide revolution to shake these guys out of their dominance. PCC: Moving into The Association’s spare room - how did that come about? FRIEDMAN: Oh, well, I needed a place to live and they had a spare bedroom in their house. So I moved in. PCC: Did you know them through Tandyn Almer [who wrote the band’s hit “Along Comes Mary”] FRIEDMAN: Oh, I knew Tandyn. Tandyn was a friend. I have a copy of the sheet music from “Along Comes Mary” that says, “To Ruthann - my counterpart,” which I thought was very sweet... and interesting. PCC: But you were actually living in a little apartment in David Crosby’s house, when you wrote “Windy”? FRIEDMAN: Yes. I don’t even remember how that happened. I just remember that he was nice enough to let me live in his house. I’d come down from San Francisco and I didn’t have any place to live. So he was kind enough to let me stay there. It was quite nice. PCC: And what sparked the writing of “Windy”?
Oh, that was one of those that came out in 10 minutes. I didn’t really think about it much. The truth is, there was this guy who was bugging me, this other songwriter. He wanted to know how I wrote. I didn’t want to teach him how to write. I just wanted to write. I just wanted to play. So I was doing that and trying to think of a sort of non-him. An anti-him, actually. And that’s how “Windy” came out. PCC: What did you think, when you heard The Association’s soaring vocal arrangement on the record? FRIEDMAN: The vocal arrangement? I’m sure that was Gary Alexander - I think. Jules. [band member Jules Alexander used his middle name, Gary, on The Association's first two albums.] Because he did their vocal arrangements. He’s amazing. I used to listen to them practice. And he is really brilliant. I don’t know what happened between them. I never found out. I was gone at the time, living at Crosby’s place, by the time whatever happened and Larry Ramos showed up and Jules was gone. It seemed strange to me, because he was the most musical of them all. He was the arranger. He could do compositions. [Jules Alexander and Jim Yester, also an original member, are performing together these days in The Association. Still sounding fantastic.] PCC: The success of “Windy,” how did that change things for you? FRIEDMAN: It changed my whole life, one, two, three. I can have my own place! My own bed! [Laughs] It was so exciting, going out and buying a bed, stuff like that. Very exciting. My own place! When I was kid and we first moved here, they put me in a maid’s room. I lived in the maid’s room in two houses, which meant that I was far away from the rest of the family. I was on the other side of the house. That about sums it up. That’s the way it was with me and my family [laughs]. PCC: Was it after that, that you went to live in Half Moon Bay, up on the coast outside San Francisco? FRIEDMAN: Oh, yeah, after Crosby and “Windy.” “Little Girl Lost and Found,” which was a Tandyn song, we had signed on A&M, and the song came out as a record by a group called The Garden Club. [though Friedman had provided almost all of the vocals] And they wanted me to put together a band to be The Garden Club. If you find a copy, you’ll see these people’s faces on it that are supposed to be The Garden Club. I don’t know who the hell they are. So I called Jorma Kaukonen and said, “I need a lead guitarist. I need to put a band together. Got any ideas?” He said, “Call my brother, Peter.” So I did. And Peter came down to L.A. and we talked and we played and we decided to do this. And then he decided that I should come up to the Bay Area. And I really didn’t want to write “Windys” over and over again. That was not the kind of song I was writing. I was writing stuff that was different, not so pop-ish. And I wanted to be in a rock ‘n’ roll band. And that’s what we did. We had a rock ‘n’ roll band [Petrus]. And A&M really didn’t want me to do that. I was signed to them as a songwriter. And we were signed to them as a band. And I was signed also as an artist. So it was all A&M for a few years there. And then it all fell apart. I won’t get into the details of that, because it’s boring and depressing. PCC: On a brighter note, the Big Sur Folk Festival, having Joni MItchell introduce you, that must have been a thrill. FRIEDMAN: Oh, they gave me half her set on the second day. I drove up there with her and her manager. I was just so cowed by everybody. I just thought everybody else knew what to do and I didn’t. And I had just broken up with Peter, very shortly before that - we had been together, with the band, for quiet a while. I was kind of lost in space. Joni tried to get me my own set. Joni Mitchell had her own acolytes there, who sang just like her. And Joan Baez had her acolyte there, who sang just like her - and didn’t want anybody else on the bill. So, the second day, Joni brought me up. I wasn’t even expecting it. She brought me up to do half her set. So I sang three songs. And they liked it a lot. And The Free Press liked it. And Rolling Stone liked it. And that was that. PCC: So when “Constant Companion” was completed, what were your expectations? FRIEDMAN: That’s when my sister killed herself... and all my expectations went down the toilet. I just went away. PCC: So it was at that point that you kind of left the business behind? FRIEDMAN: Yeah, kind of. I still was hanging in there for a few years. I was recording with different people - and blah, blah, blah. And then I found a guy. And we decided we wanted to get married and have children. And that was a good family. And that’s what I wanted - you know? PCC: And you went back to school, to college? FRIEDMAN: Yes. I was in my fifties. I graduated even later, in 2003. So that’s eleven years ago. And I’m 70. So I was 59 then. PCC: And did those studies help your writing? FRIEDMAN: Oh, yeah. Oh, my God, yeah. Now I can tell you what I’m doing. I can look back at what I’ve done and analyze what I’ve done. The metaphor queen - whatever [laughs]. Sometimes you have to say it straight out. Sometimes you just have to couch it in different terms. It’s given me a broader perspective on what’s possible and what people have done. And now they’ve done it. So you don’t have to go through territory that’s already been gone through. That’s the hard part. It’s been done and it’s been done and it’s been done. And how are you going to do it a little differently, so it’s not the same-old, same-old, not somebody else’s thoughts that you’re reinterpreting or somebody else’s music? Although, we all interpret everybody else’s music. That’s how we come to our music, I think. PCC: Having the older material rediscovered in recent years - was that an important validation for you? FRIEDMAN: Yes. And some of those songs I think are really good. And it is a validation, when people like them. A cousin of mine - more of a nephew age - he’s a brilliant musician. He said, “You need to get out there and play some more. I’m going to get you gigs. I’m going to find somebody to get you gigs.” I have a p.r. guy now. But I do not have a booker. I love playing and singing - I don’t care how small the venue. I’ll play a house concert. There’s no money in it. But I enjoy it. PCC: Any unfulfilled musical dreams still remaining? FRIEDMAN: I want to tour. I want to tour Europe. Doesn’t have to be big venues. Small clubs. I would like to tour Europe. That’s what I would like to do. I would like to tour the States, too. But I would love to go to Scotland, England, Ireland, Spain and France. I have a friend who is Portuguese. - so Portugal. That would be a lot of fun. PCC: You’re based in Venice, California? FRIEDMAN: I’ve been here for 40 years, maybe more. PCC: Looking back, is there satisfaction, knowing you followed your own musical path? FRIEDMAN: Well, I don’t know. I’d have to think about that. I think I was very,very, very, very needy as a young person, because I came from a place where I needed to be taken care of. And in a lot of ways, I wasn’t. People could take advantage of me. And that’s what happened. PCC: But the music survives. FRIEDMAN: The music survived. And I survived, too, goddammit.! I’m still alive and kicking. I’ve got a wonderful husband. I’ve got two daughters. I’ve got a nice home that I’ve lived in for 40 years. I garden. And I write. I have friends, who I love. And I spend a lot of time with young people, because they’re the ones that are making music out there, mostly. I have a young musician, songwriter, amazing guitarist from Florida - Rachel Goodrich - living with me in my house right now. I have to give it back, right? For more about this timeless artist, visit www.ruthannfriedman.com. |
