The Psycho Sisters, left to right, Vicki Peterson, Susan Cowsill
Photos Courtesy of The Psycho Sisters.

SUSAN COWSILL:
THE RAIN, THE PARK, THE COWSILLS, THE PSYCHO SISTERS & OTHER THINGS

By Paul Freeman [July 2014 Interview]

Through her entire life, Susan Cowsill has been making music - and for all the right reasons.

Her passion and dedication has resulted in many great recordings, the latest being The Psycho Sisters - “Up On The Chair, Beatrice.” It’s indie folk-rock-pop perfection.

Cowsill’s partner in this project is The Bangles’ Vicki Peterson. The Psycho Sisters have existed, on and off, for more than 20 years. So capturing their magic in the studio was long overdue. Vicki is married to John Cowsill, Susan’s brother (and The Beach Boys’ touring drummer). Cowsill and Peterson co-wrote several of the album’s irresistible tracks. And their harmonies are exhilarating.

Cowsill knows harmony like few singers do. She has backed such artists as The Smithereens, Belinda Carlisle, Carlene Carter, Dwight Twilley, Giant Sand and Hootie & The Blowfish.

By the age of eight, Cowsill was already performing with her family’s band, The Cowsills, which featured her brothers and mother. The group had already had a smash with 1967’s “The Rain, The Park & Other Things.” After precocious Susan joined, more hits followed, including “Indian Lake” and “Hair.” The family’s success spurred Screen Gems to create “The Partridge Family” TV series.

Cowsill went on to thrive artistically as a member of the cult indie-rock band The Continental Drifters, which also featured Vicki Peterson, Peter Holsapple (The dB’s) and Mark Walton (Dream Syndicate).

In 2010, Cowsill hit another musical pinnacle with her brilliant solo album “Lighthouse.” Its beautiful songs came in the wake of tragedy. Her brothers Bill and Barry died about six months apart. And she lost her home in Hurricane Katrina.

And the feel-good, sunshine pop The Cowsills had churned out didn’t reflect their real childhood and adolescence. It turns out that the supposedly idyllic family environment they had grown up in was actually horrifyingly dysfunctional. Revelations of their father’s shocking abuse is included in the riveting, moving documentary, “Family Band: The Cowsills Story.”

Only two weeks prior to our interview with Susan Cowsill, she lost another brother - Richard. Despite the darker side of her story and the struggles she’s had, trying to make a career out of her exceptional music, Cowsill remains upbeat. During our interview, she is instantly engaging, with a ready laugh and a disarming candor.

POP CULTURE CLASSICS:
Has this project with Vicki been on the back burner since you began performing together years ago?

SUSAN COWSILL:
The whole concept of making the record was on the back burner. The songs had been started, but really weren’t even fleshed out with a band. It’s kind of like old photos that you have, that you know that you were going to put in a scrapbook sometime and really want to be able to have them out and look at them on the table, but you just didn’t get around to it, because life got too busy [laughs]. That’s how I describe it.

PCC:
Once you decided it was the time, did you plan out what you wanted to do or just let it take its form organically?

COWSILL:
Yes and yes. We did sit down with our cassette tapes [laughs] of these songs, as we had them. We did perform them. We used to perform in the late 80s. And we had cassettes from when we were writing them. But they were almost inaudible. It was pretty funny. But we would listen. And we had only performed these songs on two guitars... ever. So knowing that we were going to record them and go into the studio, we had to kind of design a new vision, what we would put on them. So we sat with cassettes and went through every song and went, “Okay, I don’t know, maybe an accordion would be cool here” - or whatever. So that was our amount of pre-production, I guess.

PCC:
The opening track, “Heather Says,” has a great, later 60s, Beatles-y feel. Was that something you were going for?

COWSILL:
I think that we are later Beatles feely things [laughs]. I don’t know about other people, but I’ve never set out with an intention - “Oh, I’m going to make this a pop song” or “Oh, I’m going to make this a more bluesy song.” I think something is what it is. Then again, if it comes from you, or you’re putting your stamp on it, whatever your DNA has soaked up, over your lifetime of music, I think that’s how it pans out. All of your influences and all the things you love, musically, tend to be mirrored back to you, through your own music, which is really cool.

PCC:
“Fun To Lie” is another really fun song. It’s got a great energy. Sort of Hollies or Buddy Holly feel. On a song like that, or “Timberline,” what was the process like? Did you actually sit in a room with Vicki and work on these?

COWSILL:
Oh, my God, yes! Absolutely! I love “Fun To Lie.” That’s one of my favorites, because it’s so true and ridiculous, all at the same time, as is the process, when you’re getting screwed over by some dude. [Laughs]. And yes, of course, we did sit in the same room. And it’s a miracle that we got any songs out of our relationship, because it’s mostly about hanging out and being friends together. It just so happens that the music and songwriting and all that other stuff is what we do, so we kind of just incorporated that into our friendship. Do you know what I mean? I mean, we spent more time eating cookie dough and drinking champagne and gossiping - or shall we say, sharing thoughts and knowledge of our surroundings [laughs] - than we did working. We’d get together to write for an evening and by about two in the morning, after we’d done everything else, we realized, “Oh, my God, we’ve got to work, in order to legitimately say this is a writing session.”

PCC:
The musical chemistry between you, was that something that grew out of the friendship, or was that already there, because of your similar musical tastes?

COWSILL:
Yes and yes. I mean, Vicki was a Cowsills fan as a young girl. We came up listening to the same music together. So it would just stand to reason that this particular brand of music, there’s a lot of different influences here, but primarily, we’re pop people. We had pop 60s upbringings, Vicki as a listener, me as a participant. And that has everything to do with how this stuff comes out. You can’t help it.

I didn’t start writing songs till the late 80s. And I had no idea what kind of music was going to come out of me. You don’t know that until it does. Sure enough, there was all of this incredibly poppy, jangly, harmonically driven music that is stored in your cellular self. It’s kind of a trip, really.

PCC:
So you were in your thirties by the time you began writing. Having been singing all your life, is it still kind of a surprise, when you write a song and you know that it really works, that it clicks?

COWSILL:
Yes! I consider it close to a freakin’ miracle! [Laughs] Yes, it is. It’s a mysterious process the ol’ songwriting thing and when they come out where you can actually go, “Wow, I kind of like that,” it’s a surprise. It’s neat. It’s kind of like Spirograph.

PCC:
And do you decide when it’s time to write? Or do you wait for the muse to hit?

COWSILL:
It kind of decides. Well, there’s lots of different ways to fry the chicken, I guess. For me, primarily, I am generally moved by a moment. It kind of arrives via a channel. Definitely for me, it’s usually emotionally motivated. It arrives on its own. I have conjured up a song or two, out of necessity. And recently, Vicki and my husband, Russ Broussard, who is our former Continental Drifter mate, and he’s my husband and drummer, I also write songs with him. But they are really the only two people I’ve written with - ever. And I’m starting to investigate -just because I think it’s a good exercise - writing with other people, whereupon, you really kind of do go in and sit down and intentionally set forth to accomplish this moment.

PCC:
When you have been writing with Russ and Vicki, is it easier, because you can just open up more authentically with people you really know and love?

COWSILL:
Sure. And I’m sure that’s why I’ve only ever done that, because it’s scary. You’re very vulnerable. You’re talking about your innermost. And to do that with somebody, even a good friend, it’s a personal moment, for sure. At least my writing is. I know a lot of great songwriters, there’s a guy here in town named Paul Sanchez, who is a storyteller. It’s not only songs about himself. He writes songs about all kinds of things. Not that it isn’t a personal point of view of them, but it’s not about him. And I think those songs would be easier written with other people. And I have to make myself do it. But I’m going to.... I decided that just right now, here with you... No, I’m kidding.

PCC:
There’s also a song on the new album [“What Do You Want From Me”] written by Peter Holsapple - that’s your former husband?

COWSILL:
It certainly is... and one of my very best friends.

PCC:
That’s great that you’re on such good terms.

COWSILL:
Oh, yeah. We’re grown-ups. And that is a wonderful song. What a great song that crazy thing is! Somebody must have been really dogging him one day [laughs]. That’s all I can figure.

PCC:
And the decision to cover “Cuddly Toy” - were you a Nilsson fan? A Monkees fan? Both?

COWSILL:
Yes, yes and yes. That came about really in a sad little way, because the couple of weeks that we were in the studio was when Davy died. And he absolutely was my be-all, end-all guy. I was absolutely in love with him, going to marry him, have his children - at nine. And when we were in the studio, Vicki actually waited three days to tell me, because she knew it was going to possibly put me out of commission. And it was really sad, so sad. He was in such great shape. And he was a really sweet man.

Anyway, that came about and we decided right then and there we were going to pay tribute. And that song, it was a great song. And Nilsson is awesome. And really, we didn’t even sit and go, “Oh, my God, which one? Which one?” We just kind of both were like, “Oh, my God, ‘Cuddly Toy.’” And I love the way it came out.

PCC:
And where did the album title, “Up On The Chair, Beatrice,” come from?

COWSILL:
Oh, for the love of God! It’s a title we decided on 20-something years ago, that if we ever made the record, that’s what we were going to call it. I’m going to go with what Vicki said recently, I read. It’s a reference to the movie “Jane Eyre.” And it’s directly related to Vicki’s at-that-time bronchitis. And we’re just going to leave it at that [Laughs]. People can sleuth that one.

PCC:
And what about the name Psycho Sisters, was that from the Susan Strasberg horror movie?

COWSILL:
I’ve never seen or heard of that movie, but a dear friend of ours, named Bill Bartell [aka Pat Fear of White Flag], who’s no longer with us, named us on the eve of our first show, which was opening up for Shonen Knife and The Cowsills - yes, you heard me. And whoever was introducing us, maybe it was even Bill, was like, “Do you guys even have a name?” And we were like, “Oh, no, I don’t think we do.” It was really early on in our “career.” And he said, “You all are The Psycho Sisters.” And we went, “Well, that’ll do for tonight, if that’s what you want to call us. We can’t think of anything, so call us that for right now.” And it just kind of stuck. I guess I have to see this movie. Does the movie resemble our music in any way?

PCC:
Definitely not. Your music is top quality... [both laugh] Although it’s worth sitting through anything to see Susan Strasberg. I guess you and Vicki are kind of sisters from another mother, right?

COWSILL:
We are now.

PCC:
Yes, you’re actually sisters-in-law. How did you and Vicki meet?

COWSILL:
We met at a Cowsills show, back in 1978, the girls, Vicki and her sister [Bangles drummer Debbi Peterson; http://popcultureclassics.com/bangles.html] and the then bass player for the not truly formed yet Bangs. Amanda Podany was their original bass player. Anyway, they were really just three girls in high school, talking about having a band. And the Peterson girls had been Cowsill fans. And we had started playing around again in the late 70s - totally different music and totally different scene. And they found us. And they stalked us - yes, I’m using that word. They used to come to our rehearsals to ‘learn about harmonies,’ which is the biggest pile of bullshit I’ve ever seen in my life [laughs]. And my brothers would let them come, because they wanted to assist. Yeah, okay. Whatever.

So we met back then, but we weren’t really very good friends at that point. I was living in my own world. And I thought they were kind of annoying, coming to our rehearsals. But I was a bit of a punk back then. But about 10 years later, Vicki and I met again. She had stayed in touch with my brother Bob through the years. And my boyfriend at the time was Dwight Twilley. We were together for many, many years. And I remember watching MTV one day, however many years later that was, and “Manic Monday” coming on and going, “Wait a minute. Oh, my God! It’s that girl and her sister!” I’m like, “What the...? What year is it and how long have I been doing whatever it is I’ve been doing... or not doing?”

Life took some changes and I ended up going down to the pub my brother Bob sang at, at the time. And she was there. And really, from that day on, we were lifetime friends. From that day on, we talked probably every day.

PCC:
So it must have been really cool when she and John eventually got together.

COWSILL:
Yeah, it was. There was a topic we don’t discuss anymore, because it’s just too creepy. But other than that...

PCC:
Creepy?

COWSILL:
Yeah, girlfriends, we talk about all kinds of things. And we had to take one topic off the table, because it’s just too creepy.

PCC:
So I guess that would be off the table right now?

COWSILL:
Yeah, that would be sex, Paul, in case you were wondering what it was [both laugh]. But it’s great. They’re a wonderful couple. And it makes me happy, too. I like to tell my brother John she just married him so she could be my real sister.

PCC:
You mentioned Continental Drifters. That was such a cool band. Got rave reviews. Was it frustrating the group didn’t have more commercial success?

COWSILL:
I think for some members. It didn’t bother me, because it was the first time I was in a band for the sheer joy of being in a band, because The Cowsills was a machine. It started out the way all good bands do, which is just because you’re an artist and you have a muse and you must heed the call. But the Drifters was absolutely my junior high. I learned to play guitar. I learned to write songs. I learned the meaning of how music can save your soul, with The Continental Drifters.

And, of course, making a living doing music is imperative for an artist who doesn’t have another vocation. We were together, ultimately, in some form or another, for 10 years, and I think frustration did set in. But I did not feel it as much. As long as I was paying my rent and experiencing the experience, I was pretty happy with it.

PCC:
You mentioned before, Vicki and Debbi coming to learn harmony, do you view harmony as primarily being something you’re born with, that gift? You’ve been able to sing with so many different people so well. Or is there a lot of hard work involved in mastering that craft?

COWSILL:
[Laughs] It is absolutely the easiest thing on the planet that I do. I have no clue how it happens. I’ve never gone to school to find out. I think people can learn about music and I guess you can learn about harmony. I know there’s a musical theory involved. But I know nothing of it. And I just know that I was born this way. I know that all my brothers were born this way. I’m pretty sure the Peterson girls were born this way. No, it’s like magic. Like music. Music to me is like magic. I have no clue what’s going on [laughs]. And that’s why I love it, because I’m a very big fan of like Santa Claus and faeries. So music is right up there.

PCC:
And it’s important to keep it mystical to some degree.

COWSILL:
Well, yeah, absolutely. Through the years I thought that perhaps I should take some schooling and have a better handle on what I’m doing, be able to communicate it better. And I’ve been advised by many people to stay away from it at this point, because sometimes the knowledge squelches the creativity.

PCC:
And would you agree that there’s nothing quite like blood harmony?

COWSILL:
Yup. I would agree with that. I think the proof is in the pudding of every band that we know that are siblings. There is nothing like a Beach Boys harmony. Nothing like the Jackson 5. Osmonds. Bee Gees. Cowsills. Bangles. And it’s really a fun experience, because you know when you’re doing it. It’s like a vibrational resonation that you don’t get with somebody else. Now, that being said, I’ve come close to that with like one hand, maybe not even a full handful, of people - Vick being one of them. For not being blood-related, those harmonies are pretty damn close.

PCC:
Being surrounded by music growing up, how was it determined when the time was right for you to join the family band?

COWSILL:
Well, that’s a good segue off of what we were talking about, because though one is born with the gift, the gift does not necessarily present itself in full form at inception. And I wanted in The Cowsills terribly, from the minute I was alert and aware enough to know what was going on, probably I was around five. And my brother Bill, who was the leader of The Cowsills, here we were in this band where all these children were being allowed to be in it at an incredibly young age. Seven or eight seemed to be the magical age. And I, being a young person and not understanding anything, really, I figured, if everybody else is in it, then why am I not? And my brother Bill was very clear. He was like, “Look, it’s cute that we’re all young, but that’s not the criteria. And you’re the damn cutest of all of us, but that’s not what it takes to be in this band. You have to be able to sing. And right now, kid, you don’t quite have it. And that’s okay, because you’re only five.” And I was just like, “What?!” I was absolutely incensed. And I was on a mission.

I don’t remember intentionally like trying to learn to sing. I sang all the time. I guess I just had some unconscious faith that it would come about. And it most definitely did, on accident. I was in a car with my brother Bill, driving to the beach. And a Monkees song came on and I started harmonizing with it. And he stopped and he looked at me and he went, “Keep singing.” And I went, “What?” I did and he went, “Well, I’ll be damned. Look at you.” And I guess I was successfully harmonizing with this record. And I got to audition for the band. And I made it!

PCC:
And that was right before the band went on the “Ed Sullivan Show”?

COWSILL:
Yes! What a lucky girl! Because I was not on that first album.

PCC:
So suddenly finding yourself about to appear on an American television institution, did you feel pressure?

COWSILL:
No! Absolutely not. It was kind of like making my way up to the top of the slide and I finally get to sit down and go down it. It was the longest freakin’ climb up ever. And I was so excited, I could spit. I mean, look at that footage. I think youth breeds confidence that unfortunately, we don’t necessarily take into our adult lives. We are fearless and we are joyous and it’s all just so much fun... until you start thinking. It’s an interesting little plan the universe and God laid out - the person plan [laughs]. Because you hit 12 and start doubting yourself and it all kind of goes to shit from there [laughs again]. Until hopefully, you hit another place, where you evolve and learn that you can be five again with your fearlessness and confidence.

PCC:
So having that fearlessness early, when Screen Gems was interested in having your band star in a sitcom, prior to adapting it as “The Partridge Family,” did that seem like a natural possibility to you? Or was that idea scary.

COWSILL:
No, I would have been cool with it. I wasn’t scared. Really, scared didn’t happen until I was about 13. And it wasn’t anything to do with the confidence and with the musical gifts that I was given. No, I would have loved to have been on that TV show. They basically said that, on a whole, we weren’t actors. They actually did want my brother Barry and myself. But we came as a package deal. So that didn’t go. And really, we didn’t need to be doing that. We had such a full plate, as it was. And we were growing up and becoming awkward teenagers. At least they were. And weren’t really the cute, innocent children that they had met and decided to build this TV show around, because it took a couple of years in pre-production, to create it.

PCC:
How weird was it to see these representations of yourselves on TV, once it did air?

COWSILL:
Oh, yeah, that was weird. Yeah, that was absolutely strange and weird. That I acknowledge. And I watched it. I loved it. Friday, 8 o’clock - I was there. And I had a crush on David Cassidy, which was creepy, because he was my brother... on TV [laughs]. It wasn’t confusing, because I’m not that kind of a kid. I understood much. But it was strange. And look, it wasn’t confusing to my intellectual self, but somewhere inside my body, it must have been crossing realms and worlds, because, when my mother passed away, I literally, about a week later, had a very real dream and it was sweet and it was sincere - Shirley Jones adopted me. And how f-cked up is that? And it was real! And I was like, “Oh, you are one screwed up kid!” [Laughs].

PCC:
Did you ever get to meet her and tell her?

COWSILL:
Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah. She’s a wonderful woman. And she’s in our documentary. And she’s emceed a couple of shows for us. And she loves us. She calls us “her kids.” [Laughs]

PCC:
The documentary is so moving. Everybody assumes The Cowsills were like the Partridges - the all-American, wholesome, happy family.

COWSILL:
And why wouldn’t they?

PCC:
And now we see the dark reality. Was it cathartic for you to participate in the documentary with your brothers?

COWSILL:
Yeah, it was very cathartic. It was cathartic in maybe a dangerous way from time to time, because, when you’re rehashing and you’re reliving and you’re excavating buried emotions, you usually get to have a professional on hand... and we didn’t. We joked that we should have had a counselor on had, but we probably really should have, because it stirred up a lot of unresolved stuff for me. But I’m glad I did it.

And I just received today, right before talking to you, a beautiful email from someone who was a huge Cowsills fan, whose life we saved with our beautiful music, because of her horrible family personal life, that was very similar to ours. And she just saw the movie... and it just made her feel a part of - and less lonely in - and it was a beautiful letter. And she thanked me for helping her to feel better about all of it. And for me, that was my hope, why I agreed to do it. I mean, there is no other reason. You can write the history about something. Having a documentary and having people watch you go through an emotion, etc., etc., that’s a whole different ball game. And the only reason I agreed to do it was in that the hopes that it would help other people And when it does, it’s certainly all worth it.

PCC:
That must be so gratifying.

COWSILL:
Oh, my God, it’s the best!

PCC:
You mentioned that fan saying that The Cowsills’ music had saved her life. Was the upbeat music an escape for you, as well?

COWSILL:
[Laughs] You bet your ass it was! Absolutely. I mean, music is soul-saving. It is a lifesaver. I dare anybody to picture their life without music and what it would have been or would be. I mean, that’s the whole purpose of art - to help people express themselves and to share it with other people who might not have that particular gift, because, listening to the song, I guarantee you, is just as healing as writing it and playing it. It is a shared experience. And that is also why I continue to do what I do. It is not for the money, because I don’t make any. I make just enough to live. But it saves your life... every day.

PCC:
Another interesting aspect of the documentary is that, besides the hits, there’s a lot cool later music, like “Real Life” and “River of Love” in there that will allow a lot of viewers to discover it and maybe explore your other albums.

COWSILL:
Which is always a nice perk, for sure. I was honored to be asked to have some of my stuff in our movie. And people have definitely ordered up the CD, because they heard it on the documentary. And that’s great. When you are a professional artist, you have to make money doing it, if it’s what you do for a living. I really do have a goal someday to somehow - I don’t know, maybe by magic, because that’s how I seem to think everything runs [laughs] - to be able to play music for free and not have to worry about charging somebody for it or making money doing it to live - that’s my ultimate goal.

PCC:
Having grown up in the business, did you ever make the conscious decision that you wanted to pursue music as a lifetime occupation? Was there a choice?

COWSILL:
There was a choice. But I think it was a combination of growing up doing it and this is what I do. I was a waitress for a couple of years at Marie Callender’s, in Toluca Lake, California. That was very interesting [laughs]. And I worked on a Xerox machine at a film distributor’s for about six months once. And I’ve worked at a florist for a little bit. And that’s pretty much it for a personal job. Ad I did not graduate high school. I barely went to school, because of The Cowsills. So, conscious decision? Absolutely not. A lot of what I do is a knee-jerk reaction to life. Or not a knee-jerk - that makes it sound negative. I am a direct result of living life as it comes and it presenting itself to me, for whatever it is, and me not really questioning it and going with it.

I’m in my mid-50s and there’s no plan for the end. So that wonderful Bohemian lifestyle is starting to stare at me and going, “Okay, Einstein, what are you going to do?” But the universe will take care of it. It’ll all be okay.

PCC:
Having already experienced fame at an early age, does that become less important, so you can focus more on the music itself?

COWSILL:
Absolutely. Absolutely it does. After The Cowsills, I’d be lying, if I said I didn’t want to be successful at what I do and get to as many people as I could with my music. But the desperation, if you will, of a younger artist, of myself as a younger artist, and even as far along as my solo career that I started after The Continental Drifters, I wanted to try, at least, to be more than just a critics’ favorite. And there is a certain amount of disappointment, when that doesn’t happen. And that creates an environment where reflect and see - what does that mean? What am I actually looking for?

Vick and I even talk about, The Psychos, this album, had we put it out in 1980-whatever, we would have definitely had different expectations for it. We would have been more concerned about whether it became popular or not, what people thought of the music, what they thought of us - “Oh, my God, what are we wearing?” - all that stuff that youth brings, all that doubt and lack of confidence, the desperation that sometimes can come with that. Definitely, as you grow, you make the choice to stay, to do what you’re doing. The reason that you’re doing it changes, ebbs and flows constantly. And for me, like I said, the ultimate reality, honestly, it being a service work is my favorite aspect at this point in my life, because I have had so many people tell me - you know, there are a lot of times, when you have children, you think, “Well, shit, I need to get back to school and get a job. I’m not doing anything but serving my own purpose by writing these songs to make myself feel better.” And somebody else receiving the gift of the soul-saving is a pretty big contribution that you’re not intending. It’s a by-product of what we do. So caring about being famous, I think, for me, went away, when I was 13, 12, I didn’t care.

Making it, proving that I’m good, that I’m as good as Sheryl Crow or I’m as good as Linda Ronstadt or whatever, yeah, of course, I’m a human being. I wanted to be acknowledged. But what happened in the process of maybe searching for that was being acknowledged for something much, much more and more gratifying and more meaningful. And I’m happy with that.

PCC:
Being married to Russ, does that make it easier in some ways, sharing the musician’s experience, understanding the rewards and sacrifices.

COWSILL:
Sure. Absolutely. On a number of levels, because artists, why we do what we do, to someone who isn’t one, I think looks insane half the time. Because most of the time, you don’t know where your rent is coming from. And you’re emotionally wired a certain way that maybe is trying on the other people. So if you have another artist, at least you have an understanding of each other’s psyche and emotional content.

Also, there’s the fun part, because we really are best friends and we get to hang out all the time and be together. And that’s pretty awesome.

PCC:

You have two kids?

COWSILL:
Actually, I have three, because there’s an older daughter, by proxy, with Dwight. She’s not my bio-child, but she is my other daughter, a 34-year-old daughter who’s a veterinarian. Her name’s Dionne. I have an almost 21-year-old daughter, Miranda, Peter and my daughter. And I have a 16-year-old stepson, Nicolas, who is Russ’ son. So I have three.

PCC:
When the kids were little did you try to expose them to a lot of music? Or did you just let that take its own course?

COWSILL:
They had absolutely no choice, the poor things. I think they probably went over to their friends’ houses to get away from it, because we’d rehearse in the house, we write in the house [chuckles]. So we definitely didn’t try to, but if one had an interest, we would certainly help them out, but there is no you-must-do-anythings where we come from. And they appreciate music, probably just like regular people. I don’t think they have any special connection to it. They’re all very talented. Dionne can sing like a bird. She’s Dwight Tilley’s daughter, for cryin’ out loud. Miranda also. She’s mine. And Nicolas is a hell of a guitar player and drummer. But they have zero interest in doing it professionally.

PCC:
With everything you’ve been through, with the family dysfunction growing up, Katrina, losing loved ones, how have you managed to stay so positive? Where does the resilience come from?

COWSILL:
I chalk it up to past lives, I really do. I think you come into this world with whatever you left the other one, the last one, with. I think I’ve been building up this resilience for a very long time. It’s the only thing that explains it to me, because I love life. I find it beautiful. Painfully beautiful a lot of times, but I never, ever want to leave it, no matter how bad it gets. And it’s gotten pretty bad and that doesn’t really add up, often. So I just figure past life. Magic. More magic [laughs].

PCC:
You remain optimistic?

COWSILL:
I do feel optimistic. I mean, I get bummed out. I just lost my brother, another brother. I definitely get sad and overwhelmed. But I also would never trade a day, because it’s a beautiful journey. It’s a privilege, an honor, as Paul Newman said. I thought that was one of the best parting lines ever - “It’s been an honor and a privilege to be on the Earth.” It’s like, yeah, you’re right. And to do something. Try to do something.

PCC:
And you’re still performing with Bob and Paul as The Cowsills?

COWSILL:
I just left Bob and Paul as The Cowsills in Las Vegas. We opened up for Paul Revere & The Raiders. And Russ is The Cowsills’ drummer, which makes it super fun.

PCC:
You’ve had so many different kinds of interesting musical projects. Do you know what the next one will be?

COWSILL:
Wow, well, I have another record that needs to get made soon, solo record. And I think one of my next projects, Russ and I, with music, songwriting, life in general, workshops are coming my way. The mold of making a living just singing and making records, for those of us on the level that we’re on - you know, it works for Jay Z and Beyonce and I love them and more power to them - but for guys like us, making a living is getting harder and harder, with our changing society and technology and the world at large. So we need to start finding another way to pay the rent. And this has been brought to my attention and it will serve many purposes that I find rewarding. So Russ and I want to try our hand at sharing what we’ve learned and helping other people.

You don’t have to be Bob Dylan to write a song. You don’t have to write a song to make money. You can write a song, because it makes you feel better and it makes you feel good. And that is something that I would like “normal, regular people” to know and understand, that it’s not rocket science. It really isn’t. And anybody can do it. Anybody can draw. It doesn’t mean you’re going to be great at it - but who the f-ck cares? It makes you feel good. It’s fun. So I’m going to have the Who The F-ck Cares Songwriting Workshop [laughs]. We’re looking forward to it. We’re going to do it. I’m a little scared, because I’m not the most focused, organized and educated person on the planet to be leading anybody anywhere, but I think three days in a padded room, everyone will be safe [chuckles] and I can assure them that they’ll make it home in one piece and have a little fun at the end of the day. I think I can handle it. I’m going to give it a whirl anyway.

PCC:
Well, you’ve certainly been inspirational to a lot of people and made a lot of great music, including the new Psycho Sisters album. We’ll look forward to hearing a lot more.

COWSILL:
Thanks. I truly appreciate you allowing me the opportunity to be heard.

Keep up with the latest news and tour dates by visiting susancowsill.com.